Those Who Came After
by Xazz
Summary: fix-it fic set after the end of AC3. The world was saved, but something was set free into a world not meant for her. Those left behind in the wake of a death now have to pick of the pieces in a world intent on tearing itself apart.
1. The Grandmaster

So like a week ago I said that me and my friend J had taken AC3's shitty ending and made it better by creating a modern story we know we won't get in AC4 but hope we will anyway. She helped me brainstorm it but I'm writing it.

Please be aware that this does contain spoilers as well as keep the ending of AC3 canon. So yes certain characters are dead.

Currently AO3 and ff. net are a week behind the normal update schedule as I update one chapter every day. To catch up on the full story go to my blog /tagged/twca

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New York 2014

New York in the spring was lovely. Really it was. New growth on the trees and finally most of the snow was gone from the ground. There were birds singing and the weather was beautiful with only rain showers. It was a good year. A _very_ good year.

Normally Richard ate his lunch in his office. It was easier that way, he got more work done. He was very busy after all. Always so busy. So many fires to put out. So many people to coordinate. It was exhausting work, but it was good work and he wouldn't trade it for the world. He had the best job in the world, even if he had barely a moment to himself. Still, he knew what it meant to sacrifice for the greater good. But today he wasn't eating his office high above the New York streets. No, instead he decided to try the cafe a few blocks away he'd heard his secretaries talking about. It would do good for him to be out and about after all, he wasn't getting any younger.

The cafe was small and served both vegan and meat. Richard got a sandwich and soup lunch and their special drink; hibiscus iced tea and enjoyed the day out as there was outside seating which he'd taken advantage of. His lunch was brought by a spunky young woman with dreadlocks and a body made to sin, asking him brightly if he needed anything else. He didn't say what was on his mind just thanking her instead. The sandwich was good and the soup flavorful, he wasn't quite sure about the iced tea though. But then tea wasn't really his thing. He was a coffee man.

As he was finishing his soup another man came up to his table and without asking sat across from him. Richard looked at him over the rim of his bowl. He was around the same age as Richard, nearing his fifties but still healthy and robust (clearly if that incident two years ago had been any indication. They were far too resilient for comfort sometimes), his hair gray and going white in some places. His eyes were still sharp though and clear. He sat back in the other chair, looking at Richard with a sort of calm knowing look that Richard didn't like in the slightest.

"Hello Dick," they said.

Richard wiped his mouth and mustache. "Bill," he said without preamble. "Still alive I see."

"No thanks to you," William said cooly. Richard saw movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced at it. His body guards knew William on sight as well as he did. He raised his hand and they backed off. No need to make a scene. He didn't doubt for a second that William had gunmen hidden in the area around them and his men in the crowd. No need to turn the street into a war zone. Sometimes it was nice to meet the enemy on pleasant terms.

"What can I say?" Richard asked with a slight smile. "You're a pest. Like a cockroach. I just can't seem to get rid of you."

"I could say the same for you," William said, drumming his fingers on the arms of his chair.

"What can I do for you, Bill?" Richard asked.

"We know," and Richard managed to check his reaction in time for it to barely show on his face. He obviously didn't do it quick enough though because he knew Bill saw.

"Excuse me?" he said.

"We. _Know_," William said again. "Did you think you could hide it from us?"

"I have no idea what you mean Bill," Richard said.

William chuckled, "No, of course not. Of course not," he sighed at the end. "This is your warning Dick," William said, "This is sick, even for you."

"You Assassins are such a funny bunch," Richard allowed himself to smile a little. "Thinking you know things. You don't know anything."

"More than you think," and then with a grunt the Mentor levered himself out of his chair. "Enjoy your lunch, dick," and Richard could _hear_ the lack the capital.

"I am," Richard said as William left the table and in only a few seconds Richard had lost him amid the crowd of the New York street. He had to hand it to those rats, as annoying as they were they did do what they did very well. Shame they were almost extinct now.

Richard finished his lunch quickly and left cash on the table. As he left, walking quickly back to his office, his body guards falling into an unseen triangle around him in case something happened, he took out his cell phone. The number he wanted was speed dial. Doctor Finch picked up on the second ring. "Sir?" she asked.

"Is he secure?" Richard asked as he waited for the light to change, nearly tapping his foot with impatience.

"Yes. Of course he is."

"And the mother?"

"Holding stable, as usual, no sign of change. Did something happen?"

He didn't answer her question as he got the signal to walk. "I want security increased on that floor, especially at night and _only_ authorized personnel are allowed on that floor. See to it."

"Ah- yes sir, of course," and she didn't bother to ask what had happened again. It was clearly a need to know sort of thing, and she didn't need to know. No one needed to know. Not yet. Hopefully never. William blew a lot of smoke out his ass, but most times had nothing to really show for it. At least…

Richard didn't think of it. Old news. Time to move forward. There was something bigger on the horizon and he couldn't worry about a mostly dead, archaic, faction who thought they were doing good in helping humanity. All the Assassins did was hold the world back. People didn't know really what was best for them, they were sheep, they were made to be tended, and the Templars had taken it upon themselves to be their shepherds. Not an easy task with wolves nipping at your heels and killing your brothers. But they were doing their best and after more than a thousand years fighting them they'd nearly wiped the Assassins out, just like humans had real wolves, only with less violent environmental effects.

But something bigger was out there. It didn't take a genius to figure that out. Scientists going missing in the middle of the night. Archeologists went to dig in places that were barren of human culture. Expeditions were carried out to the middle of no where and never heard from again. It didn't smell like the Assassins. They were precise and articulate and _didn't_ make mistakes. It took weeks or months to sniff out Assassin cells now, usually longer. They were good at hiding and good at running and still more deadly than any man Richard had amid his men after Daniel had been killed. They had the numbers but the Assassins were better trained than them, he wasn't even going to fool himself into thinking otherwise. He'd seen the tapes from two years ago when Desmond had walked into their facility in Rome. Even someone without a real life's worth of training was more than any of his men, clearly, as he'd even taken care of Daniel.

These disappearances weren't Assassin in origin, they were something else. Richard didn't know what yet, but they would find out. They had to if only because Richard hated not knowing things. This was _his_ world, his flock, and nothing and no one would endanger it.

First order of business was keeping those wolves in check and keep them away from him. He was too important and clearly too valuable. So much locked up in that little brain of his. It was almost good Vidic was dead now, he'd want to get his hands on him. Sung was better for the job, even if she didn't quite understand the full effect of what the Templars were trying to do. She just wanted to help people. Very noble of her, he wished there were more noble people like that in the world.

He wasn't surprised the Assassins wanted him of course, or that they knew. He knew eventually they'd know, he just thought he'd have more time than this. There wasn't enough time and eventually they'd get in, because they _always_ got in. It was just a matter of killing them once they had. Not an easy task. Richard would worry about that when the time came, for now his priority was keeping him safe. Doctor Finch would handle the security measures and he would talk to England. Her dogs still hadn't followed through, William was still alive. That needed to change, sooner rather than later as William shouldn't feel comfortable enough to just _walk up to him_ in broad day light and have a chat and make a threat. It was _unacceptable_ and England was going to be taken to task for this. Members of the Inner Sanctum didn't _fail_.

He'd gone down to that cafe with the intention of relaxing in the spring air away from his crushing responsibilities. But of course, life didn't work like that, he could never get away from them. And he didn't want to either. If he didn't take them, than who?


	2. The Mentor

Berlin 2017

There was literally one noise that no one wanted to hear, for whatever reason, in the entire world; a child crying. Not just a temper tantrum crying, or a cry for attention, but a 'I just hurt myself badly' sort of crying that sent a shock down your spine. William's head shot up but he wasn't the first one on his feet and he made himself stay seated even as Rebecca got up from her chair and was out the door in seconds. He looked back down at his work though could feel Shaun eyeing him, always gauging his reactions. William was just trying to keep a cool head and not show his emotions. He had to be cool, if he wasn't then who would be? Not Shaun, or Rebecca, that was for sure, not his wife, not his men.

The crying petered out a few moments later and all they could hear was some muffled sniffling. William allowed himself to breathe.

"Everything all right in there Rebecca?" Shaun called when she didn't reappear in a timely manner. There was no answer. William forced himself to concentrate on his work, which was reading through reports from his men, the ones he had left.

It had all fallen apart seventeen years ago, when Daniel had defected, killed the last Mentor and the Templars had been upon them _like wolves_. So many people dead, gone. All of William's old friends were dead, he was one of the last old members of the Order. Most of those who made it up now were young, some of them barely thirty. His son would have been thirty this year…

He mentally shook the cobwebs out of his mind. Desmond was gone, and he wouldn't be getting his son back. So much left unsaid, so much unhappiness. He wished he'd really gotten another chance with Desmond.

But there were no second chances with the dead.

William rubbed one of his eyes, dislodging his glasses a little. He didn't want them but it was just a fact of life that he was getting on in his years and couldn't read his computer as well as he used to. At least they were only for reading and he didn't need them to see yet like Shaun did. Back to the task at hand, reading the latest update from the cell in Brazil. There was civil unrest there again and they were trying to bring about as peaceful conclusion to it as possible. The Templars were too busy hunting them to worry about Brazil right now, though that didn't mean they were safe, any Assassin found would be captured and interrogated for information. As such William kept the information Abstergo wanted close to his chest. Only half a dozen people knew of his existence, the way it would stay.

The report from Brazil was good. Things were going according to plan and things were running relatively smoothly. They suggested he watch the Brazilian news closely over the next few days. Like he didn't already. There was so much going on in William's head all the time as he kept track of his dwindling men, the world news, Templar movement, and keeping them hidden.

He glanced up when someone entered the room. "Really Rebecca?" Shaun asked with a sigh and a roll of his eyes.

"He was being fussy," Rebecca said holding the little boy, the source of the earlier crying, in her arms. He remembered the first time Rebecca had held him and how awkward she'd been at it, now she was a pro.

"Not hurt I hope," William said.

"He fell off his bed," Rebecca said and smoothed her free hand down his hair. "Got a boo boo, but he's okay," and she walked over to William, toddler clinging to her neck before he saw where they were going and wriggling opened his arms to William.

"I'm busy," William grunted.

"Too bad," Rebecca said and put the child in his lap. "Spend more time with your grandson," and the way she said it and looked at him was a shot of guilt down to his feet rooting him to the floor. He knew on some level they both blamed him for what had happened to Desmond. He didn't blame them for it. He was partially responsible. If he'd done more maybe it would have been different. But like he said there were no second chances with the dead.

William looked down at his second chance, Duncan smiled back at him. He was missing a few of his baby teeth so his grin was cute and gapped. "You're right," he told Rebecca.

"Of course I am," she said smartly and went back to her desk.

"How did you fall off your bed?" William asked Duncan, wrapping a protective arm around his grandson. He was a spitting image of his father except his eyes. He had his mother's eyes and a lightness in his hair Desmond had never had.

"I didn't fall," Duncan said, voice pitched high. William just raised his brows at him and glanced down at the bandaid on his knee. "I jumped."

"You… jumped," he sighed like the put upon guardian he was. Where was his wife? Why did he have to suffer so with this? She was out though, on a supply run. "And I landed on some Legos," he continued, straight face.

"On your _knees_?" William couldn't help but ask. How did children do that? Duncan nodded though. "Why did you jump off your bed?" Duncan just shrugged. "Duncan," he said sternly.

"I wanted to fly," and William swallowed. Why did everything Duncan do have to remind him so much of his son? Why? Desmond had loved to jump off high places too and always had dreams of flying. At least before he'd gone into the Animus. He didn't want to know what his boy's dreams had been like the days and weeks and months leading up to the end. At least he didn't scream. Shaun had told him about the screaming in Monteriggioni.

"Humans can't fly, son," William said, though not meanly. "We have no wings," and he gently rubbed the little boy's back.

Duncan held out an arm and looked at it, "I don't?" he asked.

"No Duncan, you don't," William said. Duncan frowned. "Now can you be good while I work?" he asked gently, because he did have to work.

"When's nana coming home?" Duncan asked, leaning against him.

"In a few hours," William said. "Now will you?" Duncan nodded, "That's a boy," and he ruffled Duncan's hair affectionately. Duncan smiled his gap-toothed smile at him and William turned back to his computer. The Templars were looking for them, looking for Duncan, they wanted him back. William knew they didn't appreciate having their little prize snatched out from under their noses. Really though, they needed to hire better security, otherwise you'd think they wanted the Assassins to get their hands on Duncan.

Oh well, their loss; as usual.


	3. The Child

French Riviera 2021

His breathing was slow and careful and he became totally still when someone walked past, to not be seen or make a single noise. They walked past and and breathed a sigh sigh of relief. He couldn't be seen. That was why Duncan was hiding after all. What good was hiding if you got found?

Carefully he rocked back onto his heels, being careful not to disturb a single leaf or branch. He must have made _some_ noise though because the figure came back around. He held his breath. Don't find me, he thought. Don't find me don't find me don't find me.

"You know," Sonno spoke up, "this is a really terrible hiding spot." Duncan gave Sonno a hard look and just put his fingers to his lips firmly. "You should learn to hide better." Duncan didn't fear anyone hearing Sonno, no one but him could see or hear Sonno. Papa said she wasn't real, just an imaginary friend. Papa said he was too old for imaginary friends. When he said that nana and Anny B got mad though. They said Sonno was real if Duncan thought he was real. Sonno _was_ real and she was his only friend since there were no kids his age, just Sonno. "You're ganna get fooound," Sonno said in a sing song voice. Duncan just rolled his eyes and ignored her she usually left him alone if he ignored her enough though she was prone to sulking if he did it too much.

The figure passed him again and he made no noise then they stopped and came back. Duncan held his breath and a hand reached into the bush. "I know you're in there," they said. Another hand joined the first and ripped the branches of the bush apart. "Found you!" Anny B cried and reached to grab him.

With a shriek of a laugh Duncan lunched to his feet an rolled out of the bush and ran away, leaving Sonno behind, though Anny B followed. For an old lady she was pretty quick and Duncan had to actually try to get away. But she did catch him, tackling him in the garden and they tumbled down into the grass, her arms going around him as she grabbed him. He laughed loudly as they wrestled a little and then Anny B was tickling him, making him shriek and scream and try and wiggle out of her grip.

Eventually, when he couldn't breathe, Anny B let him go and holding onto his wrists pulled him to his feet. "Again," Duncan said, bouncing in front of her.

Anny B laughed, "Sorry kiddo," she ruffled his dark hair. "I need to get back to work."

"Awwww," he whined.

"And don't you have lessons?"

"Uhg. I don't wanna go and see Shaun," he groaned, leaning back, supported by Anny B's hands around his wrist keeping him from falling backwards.

She smiled at him, "Between you and me, I wouldn't either," she said.

"Whyyy do I have to have lessons with Shaun? Why can't Felix teach me instead?" he pouted.

"Felix is in Paris, remember?" Anny B said, pushing her black bangs from her eyes as wind from the sea came and buffered against them.

"When's he coming back again?"

"Soon," was her only answer, though she looked worried. "Now c'mon, I have work and you have lessons."

Duncan groaned but allowed Anny B to pull him to the villa, up the stairs to the back door and out of the garden. The villa was big, bigger than they could ever really use, he didn't know why they lived here, but they did, at least for now. They loved a lot, he wasn't quite sure why, papa's job he was pretty sure. People needed him so they always went where he was needed. The last place they'd lived had been the Netherlands. Duncan liked France better, it was warmer here.

They walked through the rear foyer and down the hall to where Shaun worked. He had his own office here. Duncan liked Shaun's office, it was full of pictures and maps, showing all the places his friends visited. They were all places Duncan wanted to go. Shaun was sitting behind his desk on his computer, working, when Anny B knocked he looked at them from over the frame of his glasses. "Ah, there you are," Shaun said, leaning back in his chair.

"Time for Duncan's tutoring," Anny B said, pulling Duncan into Shaun's office.

"When's Felix coming home?" Duncan asked. It wasn't that he didn't _like_ Shaun or anything. Uncle Shaun was great. But he didn't like his lessons with him, he thought they were boring.

"Soon," Anny B said.

"So glad to know he's a right scholar," Shaun said sarcastically. "Remind me who's son he is again?" Shaun rubbed his temple miserably. "Come on Duncan," he beckoned and Anny B let go of his hand. "Thanks for bringing him, love," he told Anny B.

"Of course," she said, "I have work to do anyway," she sighed a little. "Try not to tire him out."

"I won't," Shaun and Duncan said at the same time. Duncan grinned ruefully at Shaun who just gave him a look. Anny B laughed and then left the two of them. Duncan went to the shelf on the side of the room and pulled down his binder and brought it over to Shaun, crawling into the chair he pulled up for Duncan.

"So, what shall we do first?" Shaun asked.

"Math," and Shaun seemed to repress a groan. He knew Shaun hated math. Duncan liked math. He liked numbers. He also liked words too. He liked numbers and words and history and new things and learning and was endlessly curious. He also liked making Shaun's life difficult. So math was first.

"Okay," Shaun said. "We were doing multiplication yesterday, right?" Duncan nodded. "Okay then, lets see how much you remember."


	4. The Genius

Rebecca found Bill sitting in a chair watching the news. France 24 was going on on one TV, and the BBC world on another. They were both covering the same sort of story. More upheavals in the middle east. After Isreal had bombed themselves and Gaza to 'erraticate' the Palistinians back in twenty-thirteen while the world watched it had been a long, bloody war amid the Arab nations the likes of which they hadn't seen since the nineteen-forties in central Europe. It was shocking to the world and there was very little that could be done. The United States had tried to get involved, it ended with former president Barak Obama getting assassinated in twenty-sixteen in a then free Cairo with the actual president Hillary Clinton almost meeting the same fate. That had really sparked the war five years ago and what had been a 'contained' situation had erupted into what she was sure the history books would call World War III.

A few years ago everyone had been watching Brazil during their own rebellion that led to an unsuccessful coup. The Assassins had helped thrawt that and keep the government in place as the backers of the rebellion had been Templar in origin. They wanted easier access to the rainforest for something, they still weren't certain of the reason. It could be anything. Ruins. A plant. An animal. A geological point that alligned with the stars. They didn't know. All they knew was that Brazil couldn't fall. And it hadn't. Now the entire world was watching the middle east as it destroyed itself.

She stood behind Bill, watching the news over his chair with a frown. The BBC was covering recent attacks in Isreal by the Palistinians over attacks to Palistinian towns in Isreal while France 24 was covering the civil war in Syria which still hadn't come to a real conclusion after more than half a decade of non stop war. More civil war, more unrest. The entire middle east was in flames as people tried to put it out, but to no avail. The United Nations were trying, but most of the Arab nations didn't want help. This was there war and they didn't want 'infidels' involved when they were the cause of this mess in the first place. They would ruin themselves and then build themselves back up again.

It reminded Rebecca of the third crusade. The West thinking they alone could fix the middle east, when there hadn't been anything to fix, and when they had they'd broken it and then tried to fix what they'd broken. Oh what a different picture was painted from the history books when you could watch someone run through the streets of Jerusalem. Sometimes she wished she hadn't just been watching them second hand through the data core Lucy had given them, but been able to watch it in real time with Desmond instead.

She also remembere Desert Storm. She'd just been a kid then but she could remember some parts of the news and she'd learned all about it in history. The Order hadn't been that involved with the middle east, well they were but not like they used to be. Now they were full in it because they couldn't afford for it to be destroyed. Problem was getting around safely, even for them, though the Templars were there too, trying to put out fires same as them. Sometimes it was like they were on the same side.

"So?" she asked suddenly, interupting whatever thought process her Mentor was having. Bill had his fingers steepled watching the news casting.

"What was the point?" he said softly.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"The longer I watch this shit the more I think Desmond should have listened to Minerva. Just… let it burn. Start over."

"That wasn't what he wanted," Rebecca said.

"He didn't know what he wanted," Bill said. "He was just a stupid kid who didn't want to deal with his problems. Now we're cleaning up the aftermath."

Rebecca went to the side of his chair and looked down at him, "You'd be cleaning if up anyway. We'd be dealing with just as much death, and war, only we'd never hear about it with the entire world's electrical grid down and satillites totally shut down. It'd be a different mess, but it'd still be a mess."

Bill sighed, she knew he knew she was right. He leaned back in his chair. "There just… isn't anything we can do," he frowned. "Not enough men."

"Felix'll be back soon," Rebecca reminded him.

"Felix is one man."

"One man can change the world," she reminded him.

Bill snorted, "I don't think Felix is that man."

"You didn't think Desmond was that man either," she reminded him. "You were wrong."

Bill sighed and rubbed his forehead, "I can't be right all the time," he said.

"What're you going to do about Syria?"

"Nothing," he said softly. "There's nothing we can do. I pulled out the cell there. Wouldn't be the first time we abandoned it," he frowned sharply.

"What abotu Isreal?"

"Nothing," he continued iritably. "Ever since Daniel left us and the Templars found us we've been scrambling like rats," he shot her a hard look. "We're just lucky we save Clinton in Cairo. We're already stretched out too thin in that part of the world. Too many fires, not enough firemen. Don't you have something _else_ you could be doing," he added giving her a look.

"Just checking in," she shrugged and then left him. Rebecca knew she was being a bit harsh, but it was the truth. She knew Bill had a lot to deal with though. He was the Mentor of the Assassins, an order that was on the brink of destruction. Even amid them there was infighting and unrest. They were no better than the middle east, fighting each other. She knew she wasn't supposed to but she hacked Shaun's email regularly, read his emails and just felt worse and worse about the situation.

The fact that the Mentor was a secret meant that no one knew him unless he wanted to be known and it also meant that effectivly there could be two Mentors, the real one that was elected by what few Masters they had left, and a fake one. Because it was a secret you couldn't really prove you were the Mentor, so convince enough people you _were_ the Mentor and bam; you were Mentor. Their secrecy was a double edged blade, the edges digging into your clenched fist as you struggled to hold onto it.

A sect was starting to appear in the Order. Some man named Mark Martin was gaining followers and making a very good case for his Mentorship. No one was stopping him, not even William. Rebecca hated that. William had become an old dog who'd lost all his teeth when Desmond had died. He'd gained some vigor back when they'd found out about how fucked up Abstergo was and about Duncan. But not like he had been. Rebecca was worried. She knew Shaun was worried too. Bill _was_ the Mentor. But if he didn't step up and deal with Mark soon he might not be much longer. The Assassins were restless and wanted some sort of peace, some sort of end game. Bill didn't have a plan, he played it by ear and while he thought ahead it was never ahead enough.

Rebecca still blamed that and him for Desmond's death.

She sat at her desk on the second floor of the villa, where her baby sat, humming softly. It hadn't been used in a while, but she still kept her running because of stupid reasons. She didn't have a heart to shut her baby off for good. She was still working on the Animus programs, for Felix, for other Assassins new to the fold who needed rapid training. It was safe now, the Bleeding Effect still there but now gentler. It worked on mainly phsyicality and muscle memory, leaving the parts of the brain dedicated to memory alone meaning it didn't rewrite memory cells like the old versions of the Animus.

For years she'd refused to let anyone in the Animus, or touch her baby. What had happened to Desmond haunted her at night. Abstergo putting him under as Altair hadn't done much. She knew it was Ezio, _her_ Animus that had given him the nightmares, the shifts in temperment, and visions. Shaun told her she'd done everything she could. She knew she could do more. So she'd kept it offline for a while, rewriting code, fixing mistakes. She'd had time. She couldn't do that to someone again.

Now her baby was safe. As safe as she could make it. What had happened to Desmond, or Clay, or Daniel, couldn't happen to anyone else.

Rebecca looked at her Animus, the lights of the neural interface fans gently flashed in sequence. She frowned at it. She knew the plan, and she hated it. Juno was still out there and this was their answer to the problem. The only thing wrong with it was that it made her heart bleed. She didn't want to do the plan, but she knew there wasn't a choice. Juno was coming, Desmond had let her out, and his son would help put her back.


	5. The Chosen

Paris 2021

This was such an amazingly bad idea Felix didn't even know where to begin, First he'd been pulled over, oh that was fantastic since he didn't have a passport or a license. He'd been given a huge ticket but escaped having to sit in jail at all (thank god) though had been told to 'call a cab'. Ha, yeah fuck that he hadn't done that and once the utzer was gone he'd just gotten back into his car and driven away. As the Americans said 'fuck the police'.

He hated Paris, hated the French. Fucking French, though that was probably because his ex had been French, and she'd been _psycho_. He dealt with murderers, and assassins on a daily basis and wasn't scared of much. But French girls? Whole other level of crazy that he didn't want to deal with. He was glad he'd gotten an excuse to leave Lubeck when the Mentor had called years ago.

But after being almost arrested there was getting close to his target. Some Abstergo goon who was getting a bit too close to finding their location in France for the Order's comfort. Felix was the closest operative so he'd been tasked to 'handle it'. Sometimes he wished he would be sent to Egypt.

No wait, he took that back. He didn't want to go to Egypt, not in the state it was in now. Or Israel, or Palestine or Syria. fuck why had he just thought he'd rather be in Egypt? Right crazy French women. He needed to get his priorities straight, not like he wasn't one of the men protecting the Mentor or anything from crazy old white men in red crosses and the world under their thumbs.

So killing his target had taken top priority. Problem was that Felix had never been very good at stealth, which was a shame since everyone else in the Order had it in spades. But not Felix. Nope he was a twister and a bull in a china shop- and the one from the saying, not a literal bull since the Mythbusters had disproven that saying (and he knew he'd been spending too much time around Americans when he said bull instead of elephant)- and was prone to tripping over his own feet, on flat dry concrete, usually with nothing and no one around. It wasn't that he was clumsy, it was just sometimes he got so focused on his task he forgot how to walk. Needless to say he'd fucked up and while he hadn't botched the job he'd completed it rather haphazardly which was why he'd sat in the city library pretending to be invisible for four hours.

More reasons he hated France: this job.

Now he was going back to base. Or that was what he was supposed to be doing anyway. Instead his phone started ringing in the library and he fumbled it out of his pocket, nearly dropping it at least twice and spoke in a breathy soft whisper. "_Hello_?" as there were no contacts on his phone so he didn't actually know who was calling him.

"Drop the French, not in the mood," it was Bill.

"Oh, hello sir," he said softly.

"Why are you whispering?"

Felix ran a hand through his short, erratic, blonde, hair as he looked around the library. "I'm in a library," he said.

There was a beat of silence, "You're _where_?"

"A library," saying it a second time made him feel like a foolish and stupid, but then Bill tended to do that to people.

"_Why_ are you in a library?"

"Hiding," he sighed grabbing his hair and tugging it up so it stood on end a bit more.

There was another beat of silence and the disapproval was obvious. Shit. "I see," Bill said. "Did you finish your mission?"

"Yes, sir. The target's been eliminated," his accent came through a bit stronger than usual on that one since he was insulted the Mentor would think so little of him as to leave his target alive for so long. He was obvious, not incompetent. The Mentor should have more respect for his field operatives and not just all his body guards who hadn't had a real mission in the world in years, even before security had increased because of Duncan.

"Good. There's something else we need you to do."

"Sir?" he asked, confused.

"We have an informant in Paris who wants to give us information. We've had limited contact with him up to this point over encrypted emails. You need to go meet him and determine if he's both trustworthy and get a packet of information from him."

"He say what was in the packet?" Felix asked, his hackles smoothing down again. No need to get testy with the Mentor.

"A flash drive. You need to get it, at any cost. Understand?"

"Right," he said, "where are we meeting?"

"Notre Dame-

"You're kidding."

"No. He picked the spot. He doesn't want you to kill him."

Felix snorted in contempt. Crowded didn't mean shit. Assassins worked best in a crowd where you could go in, stick a knife silently through someone's ribs and then leave and no one knew what had happened, there was just a dead guy in the street. "Where will I find him?"

"The entrance in an hour. He said he was going to where a white jacket."

"Has he been trying to research us?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"Because only wannabes wear white," Felix rolled his eyes.

"Just find him, get the packet, and return to base," Bill ordered sternly.

"You got it boss," Felix said, doing his best not to be sardonic. He hung up and got out of his chair. He had an hour to get to Notre Dame and scope the place out, he intended to use that hour.

Getting to the cathedral was easy, just a cab ride, though the driver sort of rolled his eyes at him. Another dumb tourist in Paris going to Notre Dame. Fuck that guy. He was dropped out at the Notre Dame an he paid wordlessly before scouting out the area. It was a big sort of courtyard area and there were plenty of places to blend and hide and be unseen.

Felix found a place to sit, tugging on the the collar of his jacket, leather and brown, so it sat comfortably around his neck. White was old fashion and for when you had to dress up. It was to make you look like a group, blending within your cell. Real field agents didn't wear white, since it was one of the least worn colors by normal people in this day and age. Everything was about color now. Earth tones were invisible, or black, though at one time only certain people in the Order had been allowed to wear black. That had been centuries ago, not since the American Civil War when things had to change. It had been a sort of civil war within the Brotherhood too. New Mentors every five years, they were all killed, replaced, killed again, in an endless cycle. That had given rise to the hidden, secret, Mentor and his (or her) presence faded into story and legend Assassins told each other to keep them going. That there was this old and wise Mentor above them, pulling the strings, making sure everything would work out.

Felix knew better. They were stories, and _just_ stories. Whatever their Mentor had been he wasn't that now. Rebecca and Shaun had known him ten years ago. They said he'd been different. Now he was just a shadow of who he'd been. All bark, no bite. His body guards kept him and his wife and grandson safe, and when required Felix went out to take care of business and also was Duncan's teacher. God knew you couldn't trust those meat heads to teach anyone to fight, let alone a little boy. But this wasn't the man Felix had heard stories about, who as a boy himself had listened about eagerly when his mother told him everything would be okay; the Mentor was watching over them.

The Mentor. Like somehow he was God, all seeing, all knowing, all doing.

The reality was sobering and sometimes Felix looked at the shell of the man that was his Mentor and thought maybe he should pull an Daniel. He always squashed that thought though, he didn't want to die or be hunted, or let Martin claim the title of Mentor.

His thoughts had occupied him an hour. Good. He stood up and started looking for a man in a white jacket. It was terrifyingly easy to do. Even with him wandering around like an idiot. White stuck out like a beacon in a crowd, even amid the French. Felix slid through the crowd like a fish through water, going around to behind him and put a hand on his contact's shoulder. They were shorter than him, frailer too.

"_Don't turn around_," Felix said glad for his thick accent against his French. It was better if the man didn't see his face.

They stiffened, "_A-are you-_

"_Yes. I'm here to collect the packet. Do you have it?"_

_"Yes,"_ they said nervously.

_"When I let you go you're going to walk over to that bench in front of us and sit down. Wait twenty seconds and then get up. Leave the packet."_

_"I wanted to talk."_

_"Not my job. I'm here to retrieve the packet. Nothing more. Understand?"_ they nodded shakily. _"Good,"_ and Felix let go of the man and melted back into the crowd. He watched their head whip around and try to find him. Their eyes slid right over and off him harmlessly and with a frown they walked over to the bench and sat. Felix walked easily over towards the bench and in twenty seconds they stood up. Felix waited while the contact looked around again, expecting him, he pretended to be tying his shoe lace, then they left.

Felix sat where the contact had been sitting and stuffed the small envelope into the inside pocket of his leather jacket. Then he sat there for a good ten minutes before getting up and leaving. There was no trace he'd ever even been there at all.


	6. The Genius II

French Riviera 2021

One of rebecca's monitor's pinged. She looked up from her Galaga ROM to see what it was. The security feed was active. It was probably a dog or something. She checked it out anyway before seeing that no, it wasn't a dog; it was a car. She sat up straight as it came barreling towards where she had her camera set up.

She waited. It was only one car and she quickly checked the rest of her security measures, just to be sure it was alone. Then she was back in front of the first one as it came closer and she could see through the windshield. It passed and then she was on another computer and brought up the video that had just played. She stopped the feed to see who was driving and smiled brightly.

Rebecca jumped out of her chair and walked down the hall. It was getting dark out, dinner had been hours ago and the countryside was dark around the villa. It wasn't late though, except for one person. She still thought ti was cute that children couldn't physically stay up late no matter how much they tried. And Duncan tried pretty hard.

The light in Duncan's room was on still and she peered inside. Chloe Miles, his grandmother, was sitting on his bed reading a story book to him. She was everything William was not. Even at almost sixty she was gorgeous and radiant like the sun and looked barely out of her forties with her hair still dark brown and coifed just so around her head like a halo. She'd been a god send when they'd gotten Duncan since Bill's didn't know how to take care of small children, Shaun and Rebecca had no experience at all, and it wasn't like Bill's body guards did either as they were slaves to their work and had no children, or wives.

Chloe though, knew about children. She knew how to kick monsters out of closets and soothe tummy aches and how to make the best mac and cheese. She knew how to play hide and seek and when it was time to put her boys down to bed and keep them there. She knew how to magically heal scraped knees and tell stories and when she read story books she used different voices. She was amazing. Rebecca always felt a pang deep in her stomach when she saw Chloe with Duncan though, because Chloe got to do this twice, raise a son. Rebecca… she'd never be able to, and not even for lack of trying. She just _couldn't_.

Rebecca swallowed and lightly knocked on the door before pushing it open. Chloe started, her eyes going wide for half a second and Rebecca saw that tiny flash of panic. Rebecca just smiled and the air cleared. "So," she said slowly, "Felix is home."

Duncan, who looked about to fall asleep a second go, suddenly jumped out of bed. "Felix is home!?"

"Duncan it's bed time," Chloe tried to say but he was already heading for the door. She sighed after her grandson and gave Rebecca a look like 'now you've done it', but not in a mean way. Rebecca just smiled.

As Duncan moved past she caught the kid by the wrist. "We'll go together," she said and Duncan jumped up and down eagerly. Chloe was coming towards them as Rebecca let Duncan pull her towards the stairs. Rebecca laughed at his enthusiasm.

If there was one person Duncan loved more than his nana it was Felix. Nana was clearly his 'mother', but try as Bill wanted Rebecca knew Duncan didn't see him as 'father'. That was for Felix. Though he didn't call Felix dad, thank god too. No one, especially Felix, would be comfortable with it.

Bill stuck his head into the foyer at the sound of Duncan's trampling feet, knowing he should be in bed. "Why aren't you in bed young man."

"Felix is home!" Duncan said cheerfully and hopped down from the last step, Rebecca having let go of him so he didn't fall on the stairs.

"Be that as it may, it's still your-" Rebecca leveled a look at Bill and she could feel Chloe doing the same behind her. She knew because his eyes went to her and then to Chloe and he shut up. He gave a half sigh, knowing he'd just lost. "Make sure he doesn't stay up too late," he told them, "or keep Felix, I need to talk to him."

"You got it," Rebecca said cheerfully and Bill retreated to lick his wounds. What an old man. Duncan was waiting at the door eagerly, bouncing in his robot pajamas. The front door had three locks though and Duncan knew better than to touch them. "Chill out buddy, he's coming," Rebecca laughed but unlocked the locks and opened the door. Duncan bounced out of the villa. They could see headlights down the road and Rebecca grabbed Duncan's hand before he could go run out into the drive way.

It took a few minutes for the car to pull up and Duncan tugged, wanting to go but Rebecca kept him with her. Let Felix get out of the car and stand first. Duncan was tragically ten though and painfully impatient. She also knew Felix saw what was going on and was taking his time, knowing he'd get attacked as soon as Rebecca let Duncan go. After a solid minute Felix got out of the beat up car he'd been driving, looking a bit tired but able. Rebecca released Duncan who flew down the stairs.

"Felix!" Duncan cried.

"Ahhh, child!" Felix yelled when Duncan collided with him, hugging him around the waist. Rebecca grinned and got to watch Felix become a jungle gym as Duncan climbed onto his back. Thank goodness Duncan was still rather small and scrawny for a eight year old. "Why are you standing there Becky, help me," he whined at Rebecca. Rebecca just laughed at him. "You're so cruel," he pouted atRebecca. For a deadly assassin Felix could be plenty pouty.

"Well that was amusing," Rebecca and looked back at Chloe. The older woman was smiling fondly at her grandson and his teacher. "Sorry for interrupting story time," she added.

Chloe waved it off, "It's fine," she said, "he'll go to bed without it now after he gets done expending all this energy," she was still looking at Duncan and Felix. When Rebecca looked back at the two Duncan was standing on his own again and they were doing some sort of crazy secret handshake that along with hand motions also involved jumping. Sometimes she _really_ didn't understand boys.

Only once said secret handshake had been complete did Felix lead Duncan back upstairs. "Whoops," he said awkwardly at seeing Chloe waiting. "Duncan, buddy," Felix looked down at the kid, "go with your nana. Isn't it your bed time?"

"But Feeelix," he whined and tugged Felix's hand pitifully.

"Come with me," Chloe said, motioning for Felix. "He won't be satisfied unless you do," she gave Duncan a look and the boy smiled brightly.

"All right," Felix sighed and let Duncan pull him inside. "Then I need to go talk to your _opa_, okay?" like he was really making sure it was okay with Duncan.

"Okay," Duncan said and led Felix upstairs to his room. Chloe gave Rebecca a smile and followed after. Rebecca closed the door and locked it up again as they left.

She looked up when someone came up behind her. "Hey Shaun," she said when she saw him, a funny look on his face. "What is it?" He just came up to her and hugged her. Confused, she hugged him back. "What is it?" she asked him again.

He didn't say anything but just held her tighter and she knew what he was doing. He knew it was hard for her, She got to watch one of her friend's kid, and help raise him. She'd never get that chance though. She'd never get to have her own living, breathing, messy, hurricane in human form. She did her best not to think about it really, that there was nothing the doctors could do for them.

But sometimes she did. Shaun always seemed to know though, when she was thinking about it and even if he was an idiot with words of comfort really she didn't need or want anything. She just hugged him back tightly, burying her face in his neck. She'd be okay. She would be.


	7. The Mentor II

William had the sides of his forefingers pressed to his lips as he watched the news, this time American, his hands pressed flat together. They were showing Armenia and it's conflict with Georgia over a border. He frowned hard as he watched the coverage, surprised he'd even found it amid all the news of Syria, Israel and Palestine and Saudi Arabia. It was a small bit of news, though the Armenians were surprisingly zealous about their claim on the land. But then why should he be surprised? It was the near east, this happened. At least the turmoil in the middle east hadn't crossed the straits and into Africa. Africa was peaceful right now, even Egypt and Libya. They were watching Israel and Palestine and and Syria. Small miracles really.

He turned away from the news at footsteps. "There you are," William said, muting the news as Felix drew up a chair.

"Sorry sir, Duncan was insistent," Felix said, his German accent touching all the words like a child in a toy store. "Had to say goodnight to him and Sonno."

William frowned deeply at his agent. "Sonno isn't real, you and Chloe shouldn't encourage such behavior in him."

"He's _eight_ Bill," Felix sighed, "he'll grow out of his imaginary friend on his own. You had a boy once before, didn't he have one?" and he clearly regretted those words instantly. William didn't like talking about or being reminded of his late son any more than he had to be. Not an easy task when his grandson looked just like him. Except those eyes of his. Those blue eyes that just reminded him of all the mistakes he'd made as Mentor that even led to such a child in the first place.

There was an uncomfortable, if short, silence, "Anyway," Felix said, "I got the packet," he pulled out a thumb drive and handed it to William.

"Good," William nodded.

"What's on the drive, sir?" he asked as William took it.

"A list of agents," he said, rolling the small drive between his fingers. "Rather high ranking Templars, their names, faces, and key information regarding their movement amid that mockery of the brotherhood."

"Oh. So some bastards are going to die?"

"Yes. It will severely handicap the Templars if we take these men out within the next few years."

"Well that's good."

"If our contact is to be believed of course. His information if good if not… perfect."

"No one's perfect, sir," Felix said with a slight frown.

"I'm _aware_," William growled. "You will have some of these agents, your brothers will have others." Felix nodded, now knowing better than to say anything. "I'll give this to Rebecca, you're dismissed," and William got to his feet with a slight groan. He felt old. Ten years ago he'd felt so young. And now… well he felt like a grandfather to be honest. It was maddening. Felix got to his feet with an effortless of youth and left him.

William made his way up stairs, slowly. He found Rebecca and Shaun in the room Rebecca worked in, sitting at computers, working. "Rebecca," William said, also declaring himself. She twisted around in her chair.

"Ah, Bill, what's up?" she asked, something seemed off about her. He couldn't decide what though. Perhaps it had to do with the defensive, nearly hostile, air coming from Shaun which was odd itself since while usually defensive Shaun was rarely hostile. Something had happened between the two recently. Not a bad something at least.

He ignored Shaun and went over to Rebecca, "This is the data packet from our contact," he put the drive on her table.

"Ooo," she snatched it up and plugged it into a laptop she had sitting under the desk. It was old and rather de-funk, he didn't question her use of it though, he didn't understand technology nearly as well as he claimed to. "I'll see what's in it and report back in the morning," she smiled at him.

"Tomorrow," Shaun put him suddenly. "Not the morning."

"Shaun," she huffed at him.

"You're sleeping tonight," ah, so that was it. Arguments about Rebecca's sleeping habits, which were erratic at best. It didn't help that Shaun monitored her caffeine consumption, he had been for nearly a decade now after Desmond had fallen into a coma. She'd barely slept then, staying awake on Red Bull and sugar for days and days at a time. She'd crashed hard afterwards once he'd finally woken up again, but her sleeping patterns had never returned to normal. Like if she slept something awful might happen.

"Shaun-

"This _isn't_ open for discussion," Shaun said, giving her a stern look from behind his glasses.

She sighed then looked at William, "Tomorrow," she agreed.

"We're not in such a rush, my dear. Take your time," she nodded and turned to the laptop. As he left he heard them talking but not what they were saying. He was about to go downstairs when he heard other talking. Duncan was talking, very softly, but he could hear it. With a frown he crossed the hall to his bedroom where the door was left open just a tiny bit. He peered inside and it took a moment for his eye to adjust to the darkness of the night light.

Duncan was laying in bed head tipped as it he was looking at someone sitting on his bed and talking with them. Not just at them, but having a conversation, pausing as if someone was speaking back to him. His imaginary friend: Sonno.

William opened the door and Duncan looked at him, "Duncan, you should be asleep," he said going over and sitting on the bed. He made to sit.

"Papa Sonno's sitting there," Duncan sat up, hands out as if to stop William from sitting. William sat where he'd been intending to sit. Duncan frowned at him. "Papa Sonno was sitting there," he said as indignant as an eight year old could.

"No they weren't. Sonno isn't real," William said.

"She is so," Duncan insisted, "and she's my friend."

"Duncan, Sonno isn't real, she's made up. You made her up."

"She's real," Duncan said firmly, though sounded slightly upset. "She's real," he said again.

"No she isn't. You're a big boy, you shouldn't have imaginary friends," William said firmly.

"She's not imaginary! She's real and she's my only friend."

"You need to end this childish behavior Duncan. Sonno's not real," and then William saw he'd pushed too far as in the next five seconds Duncan went from upset to crying. William's face went slack in horror of what he'd done. He hadn't wanted this. Duncan sobbed loudly and when William reached out to touch him he jerked away. William frowned but grabbed his grandson and hugged him. Duncan cried into his chest. "Oh Duncan," he sighed, "I'm sorry," and he pressed his lips to the top of his grandson's head.

He looked up when the door opened a little, it was Rebecca, looking worried. "Everything okay?" she asked, standing in the doorway, casting a long shadow into the dark room.

"We're fine," William said dismissivly.

"Anny B," Duncan whined, sticking one hand out over William's arms and reaching for her. Rebecca frowned and stepped over to the bed.

"What happened?" she asked looking at William but speaking to Duncan.

"Papa said Sonno isn't real."

Rebecca's eyes went hard, "William," she hissed, "he's eight years old. He has an imaginary friend, what are you _doing_?"

"…I don't know," he confessed. She frowned at him.

"I'll take him, you're not helping," and William allowed Rebecca to pull him off the bed and push him out the door. He heard Rebecca comforting Duncan and when he looked he saw the boy clinging to her, sniffling. Rebecca wasn't looking at him, she was looking at Duncan. She was there for him and in that moment had no other purpose, gently shushing and comforting him.

William frowned, watching, before making himself leave. He felt a heavy weight in his stomach and felt beyond exhausted. His room was inviting and he went in, even though it was still a bit early. Chloe was sitting in bed reading, her dark hair down and about her shoulders, reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. She looked up when he entered. "Everything all right, dear?" she asked, marking her place in her book and looking at him. He just sighed and got ready for bed. "What happened?" she pressed when he slid under the covers.

He stared up at the ceiling for several moments. She was waiting for an answer. Then he turned and looked at her. "Am I a bad father, Chloe?" he asked.

"Oh Bill," she said and pressed the back of her hand to his cheek. Her fingers were warm, and comforting.

"Am I though?" he asked again.

"I… wouldn't say you're a bad father," she said. "You just… have expectations."

He sighed in disgust and looked back up at the ceiling. "I found Duncan talking to his imaginary friend. I was a bit too… harsh."

"What did you do?"

He pressed his hand to his eyes, "I made him cry. That wasn't my intention," he dragged his hand away from his eyes, pads of his fingers digging into his skin as he did so. "Was I always like this?"

"Like what Bill?"

"Such a brute?"

"No," Chloe said and ran her fingers gently through his hair. "If you had been I never would have married you."

"Then how did I become the sort of man who makes little boys cry?" he asked her.

"You're under a lot of pressure my dear," she reminded him. "And I know you love him very much, he knows that too."

"I hope so," William said, looking blankly at the ceiling. "I don't think Desmond believed that in the end…"

"Don't think about it," she said.

"Our only child is gone Chloe. How can I _not_ think about it? He should be here, helping us, fixing this. He should be doing what Felix is."

"I know," she said in a soft, sad, tone. She drew in a slightly shaky breath. "But we have Duncan," she reminded him. "Be to him what you were to Desmond-

"And look what that got me. A truant teenager with a bad attitude," he grumbled.

"Then let him grow," she said, he looked at his wife, slightly confused. "Don't do the same things with Desmond, because I know you didn't see it, but before he left he loved you so much. You… sometimes had unreasonably high expectations, especially when it came to our son. They're just children Bill, they need to _be_ children. Duncan'll grow out of his imaginary friend."

"I know," he said.

"He's only going to have one childhood, and not one most would have. He needs a friend, even it she isn't real. It's harmless."

"I know."

"And you _are not_ a bad father," she patted his chest gently. "You only want what's best for our boys." He nodded at that. Because he did. Sometimes he didn't know how to go about that though. "By tomorrow it'll all have blown over."

"You think?"

"I know. Duncan loves you, he'll forgive you."

"Yeah," he agreed softly. He hoped so. "Thank you."

"What else am I here for?" she asked and he chuckled.

"I'd be lost without you Chloe."

She snorted, "Oh don't I know it," he chuckled lightly before rolling onto his side, facing her and closed his eyes. His wife put a gentle hand in his hair, going back to her book and William tried to find sleep amid his busy mind.


	8. The Mother

Rome 2023

She woke up screaming.


	9. The Grandmaster II

Rome 2025

The air smelled different in Italy. Richard couldn't say he disliked it though. America was so… poisonous, returning to Europe always filled him with a refreshed vigor. There was so much age here, so much history and magic here that there wasn't in America. A car was waiting for him as he got off the plane, buttoning his suit as he walked down the stairs to the tarmac of their private air strip. Several men in suits were waiting for him by the car, they just nodded at him but didn't speak. One opened the back door of the car and he slid in with a sigh, so much sitting around it seemed like, you had to sit to get anywhere, it was enough to make anyone's ass hurt.

The driver was away in moments and they were followed by another black car with his men. Richard pulled out his phone and played Angry Birds. Just because he was old and the leader of the Templars didn't mean he couldn't enjoy himself sometimes after all, that had always been Warren's problem, which was why he wasn't around anymore. Too dramatic, too over the top. Richard knew better. Sometimes you just had to stop and appreciate life, and he appreciated knocking down pig forts.

Thankfully the ride to the facility was a short one, perhaps fifteen minutes. They pulled up and the door was opened for him, he turned off his game and stepped out. A black woman with intense eyes was waiting for him, in a pale gray bussiness suit with a pencil skirt at a modest length. Her hair pulled back tight to her scalp and her cheekbones were so sharp that along with her eyes and suit made her look like a knife. "Sir," she said when he walked up to her, her hands behind her back, bussiness-like and professional.

"Hello Deb," Richard said easily. "Everything running accordingly here I hope?"

"Oh course sir, right this way," she motioned to the door and he followed her inside. The facility was spotless and clean, as expected from Debora Williams, head of the Roman facility. Allan had met an untimely end a few years ago, too nosy for his own good so England had sent her dogs after him when he started sniffing around in places he wasn't supposed to sniff around. Debora was in charge now and she ran a tight operation, nothing was out of place. She was also the youngest member of the Inner Sanctum the Templars had known and was barely thirty, making her even younger than Daniel.

He was led to an elevator and then down. Offices were in the top floors along with where they held Assassin hostages for interogation. But the basements were the heart of the Roman facility even if their Animi were in the upper levels. "I've read your reports," Richard said, "I'm expecting a show."

"I hope we don't disappoint, sir," Debora said, hands clasped behind her back. "You arrived at a good time, it's morning training."

"As planned," Richard had known when to come of course, he wasn't an idiot. The elevator took them two floors down, dinged and opened. Debora walked out and Richard half a step behind. She led him down a hall to a gym where men and women alike were exercising on machines or lifting weights. In the middle of the room was a large ring where people were fighting in padded armor where some agents had gathered to spar.

"Here we are," Debora said as they stood at the ring. The two combatants was a small person and a much taller, muscular one though it hard to tell what gender they were at this speed. They watched and in about thirty seconds the little one had punched the big one, swept their opponant's feet out from under them, let them get back up and then thrown them to the ground. Those watching cheered and the winner hopped to their feet.

Richard and Debora were spotted quickly after that as said winner looked around and they stood to sharp salute. "Sir, ma'am," and Richard smiled. Here was his girl.

"At ease," Debora said as the rest who noticed them as well and saluted them. They relaxed.

"Please, don't let us interupt," Richard said, motioning. "We're only here to observe."

"Yes, of course, sir," the winner said before shoving the man she'd just beaten out of the ring. "Martin, you're next," she ordered. Another man stepped forward, just as big as the other. After a moment they fell away from each other into fighting stances.

"She's very impressive," Richard said idly to Debora as the two fought, the woman quickly overpowering the large man and kicking him out of the ring.

"Yes. We were surprised by her skill even after so many years in a coma," Debora agreed. "But then Assassins tend to be the most resiliant don't they?"

"They do," Richard nodded as a new fight started. "England's been copperating hasn't she?"

"Even though she doesn't like it," Debora said with a slight shrug. "She says it's too risky."

"Is it?"

"No, sir. I have the situation under control. She's with us."

"You're sure? Last time we thought she was with us she ended up falling off the wagon."

"There's no love in her for the Assassins," another fight had started while they talked. The small woman kept winning, she was like a force of nature. "Not after what they did to her; twice."

Richard chuckled drly, "Yes I suppose so," he said. "Sometimes I wonder if that old man knows what he's doing." They watched some more fights. "I want to speak with her," he said when she finally ducked out of the ring to let others have a chance.

"Of course, sir," and Debora left his side and went to talk to their little hurricane. They nodded and followed Debora back over to where Richard was waiting.

"Sir," she was even tinier up close and Richard wasn't a very tall man, but she was still shorter than him and Debora was an amazon next to them both with her tall figure and high heels. She tugged off her head padding, under which was blonde hair pulled into a bun to keep it out of the way. Her face was hard and serious, though had touches of old smile lines in them."

"Ms. Stillman, how good to finally meet you," he reached out his hand. Lucy quickly tugged off her padded gloves and shook hands.

"Likewise," she said. "Ms. Williams said you wanted to speak with me?"

"Yes. If we could walk?" he asked motioning subtly towards the door.

"Of course," she nodded and she put her gloves and helmet down on the side of the ring. Then she spoke to those around the ring. "Keep switching out, I'm going for a bit to have a talk with Mr. Stearns; don't get lazy." To which she got a series of 'yes ma'ams' from the gathered. "After you, sir," she said. He smiled at her and they left the gym.

"Debora and I were just discussing you," Richard said as they walked. "And your alligances." She looked at him, but said nothing. "She's assured me you won't do something stupid, but I like to hear things for myself, you understand."

"The Assassins took everything from me," she said. "I don't know why you think I'd go back to them."

Richard smiled, "You could have left us too," he noted.

Lucy's eyes got sharp and next to him be felt Debora's amusement. "They have my son," she said. "Until I have him back I won't let them get away."

"Ah, so you're using us then?" Richard asked.

"No more than you're using me. It's a mutually benefitting situation. And you treat me better than the Assassins ever did."

Richard smiled, "What will you do after you get your son back?" he asked her.

"I haven't thought that far ahead," she admitted. "First we need to find where they're keeping him. Once I do nothing on planet earth can stop me from getting him back. He was taken from me," she paused here, "They were _both_ taken from me," and Richard felt a bit bad. It wasn't easy, their life. Things like love and family weren't always top priority, especially not for those who knew what the Templars were really doing, because the Assassins knew who knew and their families became targets. "I won't let it happen again."

Richard looked at Debora, all of her reports since Lucy had woken up and she'd eventually been alerted to the situation had been favorable, he hadn't been aware of just _how_ favorable though. Debora seemed amused. He looked back at Lucy. "That's good to know," he said. "We need more people like you."

"Thank you, sir. But there's not really anyone else like me," and Richard scowled at her a little. Though she was right, there were men they trained and then there were Assassins. It was nearly impossible to measure up.

"Do you want to kill your old brothers?" he asked curiously, because Daniel did. He hated Assassins and wanted them all to die. It made him driven, and dangerous, but also horrifically lethal.

"No," she said. "I just want my son back."

"Are you willing to kill your old friends to do so?"

"I'm willing to kill anyone to do so," she said seriously, staring him down and Richard tried to not feel intimidated. She was a tiny woman but he felt like he was looking at a collossus and he didn't doubt her when she said she would kill and do anything she had to to get her son back. What was that saying? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned? Something like that.

"I'll not get in your way then," he said.

"Good of you," she said without fear and he couldn't remember the last time he'd nearly been threatened by one of his own men. "Was that all you needed, sir? A reassurance that I won't go rogue?"

"It isn't unlikely," he said.

"In world with two evils, sometimes you have to chose the lesser of them to get what you want."

"And we're lesser?"

"You don't steal children last time I checked," she said with fire. He liked her. She was spunky. And rather lovely he had to admit, and not nearly as intimidating looking as some of the other women he worked with regularly. For a brief moment he wondered if she had an age limit but then scraped it. It didn't matter what his age would have been, a woman so focused on getting her child of both the enemy and a dead man back had only one and she had no room in her heart for anyone else. Shame, so young and beautiful and off the market indefinetly.

"No, we don't," he agreed with a slight grin. "You'll get your son back," he said.

"I will," she wasn't even agreeing with him, it was a statement. She _would_ get her son back come hell or high water. For a moment Richard felt bad for the Assassins, but only for a moment.


	10. The Assassin

There were three places you could find Lucy, the gym, her room, or the upper floors, working with some of the other tech heads on an Animus and making them all look like chumps. It was four in the morning and after you actually got to know Lucy you found out she was a work-a-holic and didn't sleep much anymore. Which was why he wasn't surprised to see her in the gym at four in the morning when he was too restless to sleep and needed to go beat a punching bag into submission. She was on a treadmill, running. Not jogging, _running_, the wires to headphones bouncing as the treadmill droned on under her, that and the sound of her breathing the only sound in the gym.

Daniel stood to the side, out of sight for the moment, watching. In a coma ten years and only awake three years and she still had the best ass he'd ever seen. There was something unfair about that really. And that was after a baby too. Sometimes Daniel reminded himself Lucy was a milf and he felt weird about that. But only for about three seconds.

"Stop staring at my ass," her voice startled him and he realized she'd slowed down to a walk and he hadn't noticed, he'd been… well.

"How'd you even know I was here?" Daniel walked over to the treadmill, they were on level of height for once, the machine giving her the height to not have to look up at him.

"Women have eyes in the back of their heads," Lucy said, her headphones were out and she had them in one hand. "Didn't you know?"

"Very funny smart ass," he rolled his eyes. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Shouldn't you?"

"I'm on patrol," he lied, because hey, he could be.

"You find it hard to sleep after being so for ten years," Lucy said, not looking at him, but at the control panel where she pressed a button on the display. Daniel looked and it showed how far she'd walked/run. Twenty miles. Nothing to scoff at. "What can I do for you Daniel?" she asked.

"Wanna spar?" he asked. "Better than walking nowhere," he added when she hesitated.

"Sure," she said, nodding and turned the treadmill. She stepped off the treadmill and shook out her legs a bit. She was at the proper height now, about half a head shorter than him, maybe a bit more but Daniel wasn't some huge guy, never had been. "So, friendly spar while you're on patrol?" she asked.

"Uh…" but he followed her to the ring, "Well okay maybe I wasn't on patrol," he admitted.

"Bleeding Effect acting up?" she turned to him worriedly. Fuck why did she always have to be so nice? Between her and Sung it was almost annoying. Almost. He liked being dotted on by attractive women too much to find it _that_ bothersome.

He shrugged, "Nothing I can't handle," he said. "It's not bad," he added.

"If something happens tell me, okay?"

"Yeah, sure Lucy," he gave her something like a smile. "So?"

"You want to warm up?"

"I guess," he sighed and she laughed a little. He tugged off his outer jacket and they both took off their shoes. Lucy put her iPod down as Daniel did his stretches and half way through Lucy joined him. He kept half an eye on her as they stretched and she did the one stretch he could never do, especially not since twenty-twelve, a full bridge. His eyes traced the curve of her back as she held it for a count of twenty before in an act of athleticism stood up without falling back onto her butt.

"Ready?" she asked as he got to his feet as well.

"You know it little lady," he gave her a half smile and then took two steps away from each other and sank into fighting stances. After a beat of silence they moved.

Lucy was faster, but Daniel was stronger and they were both terrifyingly agile and lethal. Even though Daniel had just turned fifty that didn't mean a lot as he had the body of a thirty year old, perfect for keeping up with a younger opponent like Lucy. He knew his men called him 'old man' behind his back but despite that he was still more prolific than any one of those assholes, except Lucy. No, she was an entirely different animal. Raised in the shit, trained since she could walk she could even throw Daniel to the ground rather often. There was something different and deadly that you couldn't train into Abstergo members to compare to Assassins and Stearns wouldn't let Daniel start training them younger than their youngest interns, who were eighteen. He understood why, but then he'd fight against Lucy and all he could think was: what a waste.

Lucy won the first match, unfooting him and throwing him to the ground in a controlled fall, twisting his arm as she did. He yielded with a grunt and she helped him up after. They took a brief break, Lucy getting her water bottle to rehydrate and even offered it to Daniel. He took a sip but he was still surprised she'd won. Running twenty miles and then flipping him onto his stomach, it was impressive. Damn Assassins.

"Ready to go again?" she asked, now in a seemingly good mood.

"Lets go," he said and they fought again. And again. And again. Each time Lucy won and Daniel became progressively more frustrated. It wasn't because he was old. It _wasn't_. He could still fight, he could still take anyone to task. He wouldn't let Lucy win all these matches.

On the fifth match he pushed hard. Harder than before. He made her play defense because he couldn't let her get the better of him five times in a row. This time, thankfully, he managed to beat her and they fell to the ground in a controlled fall with a thud.

They were both panting as Daniel straddled her, effectively pinning her. "Daniel," she huffed after a few moments, "get off."

"I'm currently enjoying my victory thanks," Daniel said. She rolled her eyes at him.

"One in five, you're losing your touch," she panted.

"If this turns into about me being old-

"Relax," she said, "I wasn't going to say that. Leave that to the other guys to piss you off about the old comments. Now, please," she rose her brows at him, signaling for him to get off her.

He looked down at her with a frown. "You know," he said slowly, "at one point this sort of situation would have gone differently." One where getting off meant something entirely different way.

"That was then," Lucy said, "it's different."

"Why?" he asked tilting his head at her, though he did release her hands.

"It's been thirteen years," she said.

"Technically it's only been three, for you. You were asleep most of that time."

"Daniel, get _off_ me," she growled.

"What? Am I not good enough for you?" he asked her pointedly. "Too _old_?"

"No."

"Then what?"

She shoved him off her, twisting herself to her feet and then standing up. She tugged on the hem of her shirt, "I found someone better."

Daniel blinked at her, confused for half a second before he was on his feet. "Someone _better_?" he asked. "You mean Desmond Miles? The _dead_ Desmond Miles-

"He isn't dead," she said.

"He's dead," Daniel said angrily. "Twelve years and we've heard nothing about him. We hear more about the Mentor than we do about Desmond."

"He's not dead," she said firmly.

"Just because you don't want to believe it doesn't mean he isn't dead. You're waiting for a dead man who's only hold on you is that he got you pregnant," and she slapped him.

"You do not get to talk about me, my son, or Desmond like that, understand?" she hissed at him. "Just because you're broken, Daniel, doesn't mean we all are." He was still reeling from getting slapped. He stared at her. She turned away from him and picked up her shoes.

He straightened and reached out, grabbing her, yanking her around to face him. Heat flared through his entire body, a hateful heat that made him light headed. "I'm not _broken_," he snarled right into her face. "Understand? I'm fine," and the look on her face was fear. He barely noticed. "I'm not some fucking nobody like _Desmond_ who couldn't even take some weak level Bleeding. Don't you fucking compare him to me because he's _nothing_! Got it!?" he practically yelled.

"Daniel, let me go," Lucy said.

"Am I clear?" he demanded, his vision was more than a little red. He was pissed. He wasn't like that fucking weak idiot Desmond Miles. He was strong. He'd survived getting stabbed, one of the few who'd been at the facility that night who had survived that fucking massacre. He'd survived two years with the Assassins and living in their insane cult. He'd survived the Bleeding Effect without medications or any real help. He'd survived the Animus, and the Templars. He was a survivor. He was the best there fucking was. And Lucy had the _gal_ to compare him to that piece of shit wanna-be like _Desmond Miles_.

"Daniel!" Lucy screamed grabbing at his hands, her voice surprisingly thin. The world swam into focus and he realized he had his hands around her throat, squeezing, and she was grabbing at his hands helplessly. All his rage dissipated in an instant and he released her. She fell to the ground in a heap, gasping and coughing, hand to her throat.

"Lucy-" he crouched and reached out to touch her.

"Don't!" and she scooted away from him, staring at her, her blue eyes wide and scared. "Don't touch me Daniel," her voice shook.

"Lucy, I didn't… I'm sorry," he said.

"I-" she coughed and around the edges of her hand on her throat he could see the angry red marks of his own finger prints. "I don't care," she moved further away from him. "Stay away from me Daniel," she said, looking at him fearfully.

"I didn't-

"I don't care!" she yelled when he tried to move closer to her again. She grabbed her things and managed to stand up, her hand falling from her throat. He looked up at her and all he could see was the angry red mark around her neck, like a collar, in the shape of his fingers. She swallowed and looked down at him, "This is why he's better," she said and then left the ring and quickly left the gym. Daniel didn't even move, he couldn't even think to follow her.

The door of the gym banged closed with a sort of demented finality and Daniel stared after her. He pressed one hand to his face before slamming the other into the mat as hard as he possibly could. It didn't make him feel any better.


	11. The Mother II

there will be no update tomorrow

* * *

Denver 2025

Hands on her hips Lucy looked over the scene in front of her. It made her feel like a cop, sort of. But then they didn't trust cops with this. The police hadn't even been called.

Apparently up till now they'd been calling Daniel in on these things, but while Daniel was good, she was better. He thought living with the Assassins for two years and studying them for twenty suddenly made him an expert on their movements. It made him a 'wanna-be' if nothing else. Brotherhood slang for people who found out about the Order and researched them until their eyes fell out and then claimed to know about them and their ways. Usually wannabes dressed in white jackets. It made field agents and normal members groan and roll their eyes at them. White only worked in a group. An entire compound wears the same uniform, white top, whatever bottoms, and you become a flock of birds. In case of a fight or a flight you might be able to hit one, but probably not the one you were aiming at. Group camouflage that didn't work _when you weren't in a group_.

Daniel was a wanna-be, most of the Templars who claimed to understand the Order were wannabes. Lucy? She'd grown up in it. She'd lived her entire life as one of them. Daniel thought he was good, but between his memories of a long dead Assassin and just two years wandering around looking for the Mentor she knew he was nothing in comparison. It was why when she'd been told she wasn't surprised Desmond had almost killed him. Desmond had tried to run; but there was no running from what you were. She knew that.

She didn't bother to try and hide from what she was. She was an Assassin. She was a Templar. Something in between that was full of rage and hurt and betrayal. She trusted neither but had used both to get what she wanted. Just like she was now. She wore a white sweat shirt, accents in red accentuating her frame, her curves. Even with someone looking right at her they weren't seeing her, they were seeing her body. Hiding in plain sight. The white and red because the Templars had a hard on for the colors as long as the Assassins. She didn't get it. But whatever.

Somehow an Assassin had gotten into an office building, unseen, and killed one of their men. A high ranking Templar who was also the CEO of a small, if lucrative, corporation. Over the past few years Templars had started dropping off the map, murdered in their homes, offices and sometimes their cars. All the kills were professional, and yet personal because of the knife. No one knew how it'd happened as they'd checked all the security cameras, no one who wasn't supposed to be here hadn't been here. No one who had called in sick, it was like a ghost had walked in and killed their man.

There was a lot of blood. Lucy barely noticed. She was a lady, she wasn't squeamish about blood. A mousy man was standing next to her with a tablet, tapping something into it one handed. There was nothing here she could do. "I need to see video surveillance," she said.

The mousy man, Henry or something, looked at her. He was barely taller than her. "We've been over the tapes," he said.

She rolled her eyes, "You people don't know how to look, let me see them," she ordered.

His lips went thin and then he led her out of the office. They took the elevator to a floor below them and down a hall to the security area. "Who has access to that area?" she asked as she sat down at the security desk.

"During office hours? Anyone. After hours it'd just be janitors and the guards," Henry said as he brought up the cameras for yesterday when it'd happened. It'd happened during lunch. Perfect time. Everyone was out of the building and you could move with the flow of people coming in and out of the building during the start and end of lunch. Lucy watched the morning tape on slightly faster than usual. Walking patterns you didn't see at speed became obvious when sped up.

Henry left her to her work, bringing her a coffee as she watched the tapes. They were right though. There was nothing on these tapes. No one was out of place. Lucy sat back in the chair, fingers to her lips, thinking.

She stopped thinking about how they got up to the CEO's office. It didn't matter. Somehow they _had_ and that was all that mattered. It wasn't important how, it was important when. They'd done the deed during lunch. They had to have been in the building since that morning. But she knew Assassins. They played a long game, as long as if not longer than Templars. An Assassin could be in deep cover for years and you'd never know. Of course that sometimes led agents to going native- she thought that part with a wince- but they usually also got the job done. If this was an important hit, then it could have been waiting _years_ before now.

Lucy knew she wasn't going to find anything on these tapes. She went and found Henry. He was fielding a phone call. "Yes?" he asked.

"I need employment records," she said. He frowned, confused. "Going back four years, of who was hired and when, in the entire building. But only of current employees."

"Why?" he asked.

"The person who killed Samuel works here, full time. They're here right now," she said. "Now, those files?"

"Yes, right away ma'am, I'll get on that," he nodded quickly and left her.

Once he was gone she fell into the nearest chair and stared out the window. Denver stretched out before her. She'd never been to Denver, or this high up other than in planes. She'd grown up in Iowa, literal corn country, along a river. She knew Desmond had had the Farm, every compound had a name to make it not sound like what it really was.

Between a corn and soybean farms had been the Saddlebunch Ranch, a collection of buildings in the middle of nowhere on fifty acres of land. Lucy had been one of five children at Saddlebunch, in the middle of the little group as far as ages went. She'd had a radically different life than Desmond had as you could divide the Brotherhood compounds into two groups; radical, and liberal. The Farm had been radical, Saddlebunch liberal. Though the training had been intense it wasn't like at radical compounds. She heard horror stories from some radical compounds as an adult, like one in Spain, the name of which translated into English as 'the Jeweled Box'. Children were beaten or starved for not doing something properly, they woke up to training and went to sleep exhausted. The parents were usually paranoid and on the extremist side of the Order. Thankfully the liberal compounds outnumbered the radical ones. Desmond had just had the misfortune to grow up in one.

Thinking about Desmond made her sad. She pressed her hand to her stomach, over the old scar from where he'd stabbed her. She still had nightmares about it, could sometimes still feel the cold kiss of metal in her flesh. She still didn't know why he did it. Sometimes in her dreams she heard his voice, an anguished 'No!' as he sank the blade into her gut. Other times she heard another voice, she really wasn't sure if she made it up or not. But it sounded like Juno, in her head, saying it was done, she wouldn't be stopped.

Lucy shook herself a little, shaking out the cobwebs of her mind. She couldn't dwell on Juno. She was here for a reason. She was with the Templars, for a reason. She would get her son back. If it was the last thing she did she'd get her son back. She put on a brave face when told Desmond was dead, and she didn't want to believe it, but there was doubt. And if he was… then all she had left of him was the son she'd never met, who'd been _stolen_ from her.

She glared when Henry arrived and spoke up. He squeaked from the heat of her eyes on him. Renewed vigor coursed through her. She had a goal, a set path. Nothing was going to get in her way from what she wanted. Not the Assassins, not the Templars, not flying holographic women.

"Well?" she asked sharply.

"If you'll come with me," Henry swallowed. She followed after him. She was led to the HR department and a nice woman with bright red hair. "This is Chances, she's got what you need," Henry said.

Lucy nodded, "Just tell me what you need," Chances said.

"Records of hiring, from the past four years and photos of everyone."

Chances frowned slightly, "I think we can do that. Everyone has a photo ID, just give me a moment," Lucy nodded and waited, arms folded, in front of the desk. Henry was tapping away pitifully on his tablet.

"So why'd the company send you?" Henry asked her carefully. "The police haven't been called."

"Because I'm better than the police," she said. For this she was. This wasn't some murder by some merc or a psychopath. This was a perfectly executed hit. There would be no prints, no scuffs, no marks of any kind to find. It really was a ghost. Calling the police was useless. You needed an Assassin to catch an Assassin.

"So what are you? Special operations? I've heard of those in the company."

She smirked, "Yeah, something like that," she said.

They had to wait about five minutes before Chances had finished. "Okay, this is what you're looking for?" she asked. Lucy looked at the monitor. It had a list of everyone and their picture.

"Yes. I only want people who are still employed though," Lucy said, a moment later the list was slightly shorter. "Perfect," she said. "I need to review this list," she said.

"I can set it up at another computer if that works," Chances said.

"Yes, that'd be great," Lucy nodded. Chances got up and went to another computer. She brought up the information Lucy wanted and then let Lucy at it. Henry said if she needed anything just let him know. Lucy nodded but mostly ignored him.

A few hours later people were leaving to go home but she was still working. She'd gotten through about half the list, and a few people had jumped out at her, but so far nothing concrete. She was just going by faces. There was a certain look Assassins had, as try as they might to hide it. No matter which sort of compound you were raised in most Assassins had an aversion to both cameras and making eye contact with strangers. It meant there were few photos of Assassins but also that they were easy to pick out when they _were_ photographed.

She ordered pizza to be delivered and spent the rest of the night looking through the photos. Daniel calling her a 'work-a-holic' sort of played in her head. She was though. And she wanted this to be done with. The sooner she could get back to doing what she'd rather be doing, which was searching for William, and by extension, her son.

At one point she fell asleep at the desk. It was to be expected, she was jet lagged and running on caffeine. She still woke up well before anyone came into the office and finished her work. She looked up when someone came into the HR office and seemed surprised to see her. "Oh, Ms. Stillman," Henry said. "You're here early."

"I didn't leave," she said still flicking through pictures.

"What?"

"I didn't leave-" she stopped at one photo. It was a man with dark hair, bags under his eyes and wore a collared shit with a bow tie. He was staring right at the camera. But there was something so unsettling about him. It was the intensity of his gaze and when she looked a bit harder, even with the shitty camera picture, she saw that those bags under his eyes weren't real. They were makeup.

"You must be tired," Henry said and she pulled up the specs on this person. He was disturbingly familiar though couldn't place why.

"I'm fine," she waved him off.

"I think you should get some sleep," and just as she pulled up the information she felt a ice cold prick of steel on the side of her neck. Her eyes went to the name: Henry Washington.

"Clever," she said, not moving.

"Thank you," Henry said and she looked at him out of the corner out of his eye. "The Templars should know better than to send some dog to sniff me out," his eyes were sharp and he was no longer mousy. This was an Assassin.

"Sorry to disappoint," at least he didn't know who she was. She wasn't surprised. Lucy was a mistake. She was proof that their Mentor was not infallible and that he could make mistakes. No doubt her existence had been expunged from records that save the ones the Masters had access to.

"Now, before I kill you, answer me this."

"All right," she said calmly.

"Why you?"

She didn't answer, instead she twisted out of range of his knife, rolled off the chair and kicked it. It hit Henry's knees and he went down. Lucy pulled out her own knife as she jumped back to her feet. She could use a gun just fine, but this couldn't draw attention. Same reason Henry was using a knife. Henry was on his feet in time to meet her knife swipe.

They smacked steel back and forth, smacking arms out of the way as they each tried to slide closer to the other. Henry was driving her back though. She let him. Then her back found the wall. He held her at knife point. "Such a shame," he said, panting slightly.

"Oh? Why?" she asked, her knife crossed in front of her chest, edge facing out.

"You're pretty, and I hate killing pretty girls," and he moved to finish her.

Lucy yanked her knee upwards and into him. She connected hard with Henry's crotch and he made a noise that was half squeak, half wheeze as he came to a jolted, abrupt, stop and then collapsed, curled up around himself. She pushed a bit of hair out of her eyes and behind her ear with a slight huff. "Why me?" she asked him, "Because I'm the best," and Henry just squeaked at her in pain before she went to find something to bind his wrists and call for a pick up. She was getting too old to keep putting little boys in time out.


	12. The Grandmaster III

New York 2025

They were good dogs, no one could say they weren't. Obedient, didn't ruin the furniture, enjoyed playing fetch and enjoyed a good hunt. Lucy stood off to the side, arms folded across her chest, brazen red, low cut, shirt marking her as 'good cop'. Daniel was leaning on the back of the chair, arms straight, his gloved hands slightly bloodied, better than text book definitions of 'bad cop'. Henry's head was bowed, blood dribbling from his nose, not moving, his hands tied behind his back and strapped to the chair. Lucy and Daniel were both looking at Richard as he came into the room. It smelled liked blood and piss in the room.

"I heard you have good news," Richard said, tugging at his jacket cuffs absently, not at all disturbed by the scene before him. He knew Daniel could be violent when he wanted, just like he could have a small amount of patience when things didn't go his way. But he knew that number four could also control himself. And if he couldn't? Well that was what Lucy was for. It was strange. He seemed almost adverse to touching her, like doing so would burn him. You wanted Daniel to behave, you shoved him and Lucy in the same room together. It was like putting a leash on a twister.

"Yes," Daniel said, because technically he outranked Lucy, he was in the Inner Sanctum. Lucy didn't want to be, and didn't need to be to know what the Templars were doing. She knew, because she was a clever cookie. Sometimes he thought too smart for her own good. But then, she was the one who'd brought in the Assassin, not Daniel, not any of his other men. Lucy had. He might not have trusted her completely, but he couldn't knock the results. "It's amazing what even their little rats know," and Daniel grabbed Henry's hair and pulled his head up to look at Richard.

Henry's face was a mess. Black and blue, his nose broken, lip split, one eye was swollen shut. Lucy had let Daniel work the poor Assassin over good. He must have been a tough nut. Richard looked at Lucy and raised his brows at her. Henry groaned miserably as she unfolded her arms and went to stand in front of the chair. "Henry," she said, holding the Assassin's chin in one hand.

"Is it over?" Henry moaned.

"It will be soon," she said gently. "We have some questions for you."

"Whatever you want," he sucked down blood and mucus, "Just dun let 'im hit me again," he pleaded.

"He won't," and she waved Richard forward. "Stearns has questions, you answer them, and this will end," she promised.

"Please," Henry wheezed.

Lucy stepped away from Henry so the Assassin could see him. His breathing was loud and wet from the blood in his mouth. Richard didn't notice. "I'm impressed Ms. Stillman," he told her, "Usually they'd rather die than talk."

"It's about knowing them, sir," was all she said. "Now, he's open."

"Of course, of course," he turned back to Henry. "Did the Mentor send you?" he asked, start with something easy. Henry nodded slowly. "Who is the Mentor?"

"I don't know," Henry sighed tiredly.

"Who is, the Mentor?"

"I don't know," Henry said again.

"Daniel, if you would-

"Don't touch Daniel," Lucy interrupted him, Daniel didn't move, looking between clearly the two people who held the leash. "The Mentor is a legend Mr. Stearns. Even at gun point Henry wouldn't know who he is, threatening him is useless," she didn't seem disturbed to have just undermined Richard's orders though Daniel looked like she was a bit unhinged.

Richard frowned slightly, "Very well," he looked at Henry again, eyes narrowed. "Why did you kill him?"

"Orders. I don't ask, I just do," Henry said.

"Ah, it'd be wonderful if I had agents who were like you," he shot a look to Lucy, she didn't notice. "How long were you there hmm? Waiting for us?"

"Four years," Henry said softly. "Three and a half… whatever."

"Explain to me _why_."

"Why what?"

"Why three years? Why did you wait so long?"

"Orders. Something's coming. Everyone says so, no one knows what. While the middle east is calm we're to carry out our objectives. I got my go ahead earlier this week."

"Are there more of you people?"

Henry gave him a lopsided grin. "We're _everywhere_," he breathed.

"What is the plan Henry? Why now? Just because of the wars?"

Henry shook his head, "I don't know-

"Daniel," Richard said sternly.

Daniel squeezed Henry's shoulder, hard. "I don't know!" he cried, Daniel released him and he slumped to the side with something like a sob. Richard saw Lucy shoot Daniel a stern look, the man was steadfastly _not_ looking at her. "Just rumors. I swear. Just rumors."

"_What_ _rumors_?"

"Doomsday bull shit. That Erudito, it's spewing prophecies about the end of the world. Normal internet shit. Has some members of the Order in a tiff. M-Martin is into it."

"Martin?" Richard asked. He didn't know who Martin was and he prided himself in knowing the big players in the Assassins Order even if finding them was nearly impossible. "Who's Martin?"

"Mark Martin, a master. So-some say he's the Mentor," Henry said it at a whisper. Richard looked at Lucy who just looked confused. Clearly she had no idea what he was talking about. "He leads a large group. They're talking about the end of the world. Something… out there. I don't know what. I think they're all nut jobs."

"Such harsh words coming from an Assassin," Richard said.

"Hey. Don't lump me in with those guys. Just because they're my brothers doesn't me I'm _like them_," Henry said indignantly.

"Ms. Stillman?" Richard looked to her for clarification, he doubted Daniel knew.

"Within the Order there are some that are more… fanatic than others. Extremists, like a religion. The Order has had it's up and downs of extremism over the centuries. Usually it depends on training centers. Right now there are fewer extreme training centers left, fewer to carry the extremist mantra. The Order is exceptionally liberal the past century."

Henry looked at her, "How'd you know that?" he asked her, squinting at her.

"I grew up in Saddlebunch," was all she said.

He spit at her, blood and saliva. It landed in front of her feet. "Fucking invert," he hissed at her, "Nothing better than a broken blade". Lucy narrowed her eyes at him.

"Daniel, please remind our guest of his manners," Lucy said easily. Daniel seemed to get whatever insult Henry had called Lucy and dug his hand into Henry's shoulder. Henry screamed and Richard heard bone crunch, clearly it was broken already. "Continue Mr. Stearns," she said.

"Mark Martin is leading a group of Assassins?"

"Yes," Henry sobbed.

"Did he authorize the hit?"

"No."

"What about the others?"

"No."

"So that was the Mentor?"

"Yes."

"What do you know about third party disappearances?" Richard asked.

"What?" Henry looked at him balefully.

"People of note have been going missing. Scientists, researchers, archeologists, anthropologists. What's happening to them?"

Henry blinked at him, "We thought you were behind it," Henry said.

Richard frowned deeply. "We most certainly were not," he said sternly. "We thought it was your doing," Henry shook his head. Richard's frown reached his forehead. "Regardless. Where is your cell?"

"Don't have one," he said. "I was given this hit, I disengaged, went under cover. I have no cell."

"Friends then?"

"Norms," he said. "Boring people. They think the most interesting thing in the world is the television."

"Do you know who Desmond Miles is?" Richard asked.

Henry squinted at him, "Who?"

"Lovely," Richard said, displeased. "I think we're done here."

"Oh thank god," Henry sighed. He looked at Lucy. "You said it would be over when I answered your questions," he pleased.

Lucy said nothing. "It is," Richard said and headed for the door. "Daniel," he said as he opened the door, "take care of it." He heard the sound of a snapping neck as he left the room and Lucy sighed as he left them to clean up the mess.


	13. The Chosen II

Hua Shan 2030

Felix shook out his arm a little after blocking that flurry to his torso. The kid had a fucking_ arm_ on him. There was no punch pulling now. Oh no, not now. Duncan would know if Felix was going easy on him. He got angry when Felix did that. Say what you wanted about Duncan but there were two things everyone needed to learn quick about the kid, one, he could have a temper, and two, you better not baby him. He was the Mentor's grandson but that didn't mean shit. He expected you to treat him like anyone else, especially during their training.

Only sometimes Duncan didn't know his own strength or his frightening level of speed. The kid was a natural, apparently his father had been too. He also didn't pull punches. It meant that over the years their training sessions had become more intense and despite his own skill Felix found himself beaten, again, and again. He always put the kid back in his place though. Felix hadn't been picked because he was some no shit Assassin, he was frightfully skilled in his own right. He just wasn't so good at the stealth bit.

"You okay old man?" Duncan asked him, teasing him, putting his hands on the belt of his gi. Bless the Chinese but their clothes could be ridiculous. Felix had never been a fan of the gi either, even as a kid.

Felix rolled his eyes, "Keep your smart alec remarks to yourself," he said.

"C'mooon," Duncan groaned when he took too long to get himself together.

"Hold your horses kid," though really Duncan was barely one of those. He'd never really been one to begin with. Between their life style and training and expectations Duncan had never been a kid, despite Chloe doing her best to keep William from starting his training until he was older. Sometimes that old man was too stubborn though. Everyone knew he just wanted what was best though. "Okay," he slid into his form.

Duncan grinned and slid into his own ready form, fists up, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Damn this kid. Felix blocked a blow to the side and feinted left. He managed to hook his ankle around Duncan's and swing out. Duncan fell to the ground and Felix was right behind him to pin him but he twisted and rolled out of reach hopping to his feet and landing two rather hard hits to Felix's side. Oh that'd bruise later. He retaliated with his own punches and kicking- usually your hands were full when Assassins fought. Knives, or guns or something else, anything else really.

A true Assassin could kill you with whatever they could get their hands on. Felix had personally killed someone with a beer bottle before, he knew one guy who's claim to fame was his preference for killing with cups when he was surprised or weaponless- but when swords had fallen out of style for guns and knives the Assassins had started their own brand of martial arts. Circular, twisting, the ploy was to trip your opponent, make them fall on their face/back and then stab them through the neck/heart/face/whatever. It was difficult to master because all four limbs moved nearly at the same time and also worked in some of the new mixed martial arts style you saw in actual competitions, but it was unlike any fighting taught in the world, meaning you surprised your opponents with the way you moved.

Or that's the way it had been. Thirty years ago Daniel had changed all that. Their fighting style was taught to Templars, to better fight Assassins, to better _kill_ Assassins. But they were never as good. Never as skilled. Hell Duncan here could rather easily handle an Abstergo guard. He wouldn't let the boy near a Templar, but run of the mill goon, totally.

While Duncan could handle an Abstergo goon and even sometimes get the better of Felix most of the time though he didn't. Like now. Especially when Felix twisted around and grabbed both his arms and yanked them up behind his back. Duncan made to smash his nose and face with the back of his head but Felix twisted his arms hard and the attack cut off prematurely. He tried to kick but Felix used it against him, tripped him up and threw him to the ground, stunning him. Almost casually he kneeled on Duncan's back.

"Well," he said conversationally, holding Duncan's hands too, "that was enjoyable. Uncle?"

"Uncle," Duncan groaned, not pleased at all. Felix released him and got off his back and Duncan sprung to his feet like a coiled spring. "That thing you did, show me," he said.

"What thing?"

"When you grabbed my arms," he said.

"Ah," Felix nodded. He walked Duncan through the process a few times knowing Duncan would get it quickly. The kid was frightening quick in picking up new fighting moves. "-so then it's like-

"This?" and Duncan did it, yanking Felix's arms up behind him, making him wince a little.

"Yeap, just like that," he said, slightly pained.

"Huh-

"Boys," they both looked. Chloe was standing at the top of the stairs that led up to the actual temple on Hua. Her clothes were simple and her silver hair wound around her head in a crown of braids. "Lunch time," she said.

"Yeah lunch!" Duncan let Felix go abruptly before taking the stairs up to her three at a time.

"He's not giving you trouble is he Felix?" Chloe asked as he mounted the stairs himself, the teenager already vanished into the temple set on and into the mountain. Felix could smell their lunch, all vegetarian (to Rebecca's pleasure and both Shaun and Felix's nightmare) being cooked.

"What? No, of course not. I was just showing him a move," he said. "I can still take him," he chuckled.

"Well that's good. Someone needs to keep him in line," she chuckled and they walked to the temple. "Bill wanted to see you after lunch," she added.

"What is it?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "You'll have to ask him." Felix frowned a little, secrets with their Mentor was never a good thing. He wasn't the man he'd been, but he was still wily and in the past decade had been exceedingly active. There were agents under cover waiting for the time to kill their targets and the near east was... well it was still a mess. But it was better. Martin had also slunk back into the shadows a bit, though everyone knew he was still there. It was like the Mentor had taken a few years to mourn the loss of his son and then something, Felix wasn't sure what, had kicked him in the ass and been like 'enough! time to work!' and that was that. Felix couldn't complain.

Except for the fact that he was currently stuck in the middle of China.


	14. The Transplant

There was really something of an art, Shaun had found, in being able to ignore both Rebecca's smug looks while she ate cooked rabbit food and her stern looks when Shaun shied away from them. Just because they were together didn't mean he had to conform his dietary habits to hers. He was still chaffing about there being no meat in Hua. Rebecca was like she'd died and gone to heaven.

Centuries ago Hua Shan- Mount Hua- had been the center of the Chinese Assassins. It was out of the way, hidden, and not easy to get to. Perfect for Assassins. The men of the mountain had adopted Buddhist teachings and before the change in the way the Order was handled and constructed and functioned they were mostly pacifists. They did not take money for hits like other sects had, they did not fight unless provoked, but were some of the most deadly men in the entire country. And they'd just, wander around, living on people's generosity and spreading the word of both the Buddha and the Order; that of free will and the ability for a man to do more than they thought they were capable of. There were a few who'd turned militant, taking the fight against corruption personally and several legends originated and they even- like most provinces in China actually- claimed Mulan had trained at their temple and was one of if not _the_ first woman to work as a real Assassin in the Order. There was nothing documenting Mulan in Hua though, so there was little to say about those claims.

Now the Hua Shan temple, that had once been the epicenter for Chinese Assassins, was largely abandoned. The halls swept clean, the paint peeling, the murals and tiles faded with age. But the building still stood, old as the mountain itself, and just as safe. According to some records the temple here had never been taken, the tall, thick, walls surrounding the courtyards that had once housed training dummies for Assassins to fight impregnable. Shaun was willing to believe that.

In the modern day only a few monks lived here, their skin scoured from the sun and wind, wearing the red robes of a buddhist, their heads shaved. Each and every one of them was missing their left ring finger. Though the Order had moved on from Hua Shan there were some places that wouldn't be let go of. They were few in number but still carried on the old ways, and had welcomed them into the temple two years ago after they'd fled across China from the coast to escape the Templars. They cooked the cook and cleaned the temple and all the sect asked was that you not draw attention to their home. Easily done really. Thank goodness too because the temple wasn't small and Shaun didn't look forward to helping to clean it. The only kink in the whole thing was that they only served vegetarian food. No meat, but there was dairy, and eggs, but no flesh. Shaun thought he was going to go insane. Clearly Felix already had since he now scarfed the stuff down like he was madly in love with vegetables.

Traitor.

Shaun picked at his lunch moodily, ignoring Rebecca's smugness as she carelessly ate tofu and bean sprouts. Shaun still didn't like tofu, two years here and he still wasn't a fan. Some people never learned to like it though it wasn't his fault he was a carnivore. At least Rebecca didn't give him shit any more for liking meat. But then that was her own problem since she'd married him knowing full well his preference and that it wasn't going to change any time soon.

"Well," Shaun said, finally putting his lunch down. "Delicious, thank you," he told their hosts, even if he didn't always eat everything given to him he was at least grateful. "I have some work I need to get to," and they nodded and Shaun got up from the table, leaving the others there. Duncan was busy having a conversation with Felix and Rebecca at the same time, William was nowhere to be seen and Chloe just seemed amused. What else was new? Chloe seemed perpetually amused by all of them, like they were somehow misbehaving children. But then he suspected to her they rather were.

He left the dining hall, a massive room supported by huge red pillars that once had been used to feed dozens, if not hundreds, of Assassins, and went down a hall to a wing they'd been given. He could hear the drone of the generators distantly. A small slice of technology in a place where there was none. He was just glad that in the past twenty years they'd come up with better generators, what with petrol becoming harder and harder to find, becoming more expensive to buy too. These were solar powered with a back up fuel cell. They were still loud, but not nearly as loud as the old combustion engine ones had been. They had four running all their equipment in Hua and their heaters for at night since it was cold up here, even in the summer.

Shaun sat at his desk in a room once used by Assassin clerks, the chair creaked as he did so. He and Rebecca shared the space, it was a large room, and he glanced at the red Animus at the far end. It had been mostly been hanging out in boxes the past decade, waiting. Shaun had an awful feeling soon it's waiting would be over. He knew Rebecca would protest. But what William said went and there was little they could do about it.

It didn't mean they had to _like_ it though.

Sadly there weren't many other options open to them. They all knew the vice that was slowly squeezing the world. The war in the middle east, the one that had spread to parts of Africa and eastern Europe now, wasn't some twist of fate. Shaun had been looking at it, now that it was nearly twenty years running, and it was all… calculated. Terrifying to think about. It made sense though. You couldn't just take over the world from nothing. It had to be _ready_. All of them knew Juno hadn't been idle, that she'd been working towards her plan. She'd had sixty-thousand years to plan. The world hadn't even noticed how it'd fallen into the spider's hole.

"Shaun," his head shot around at Felix's voice. First meeting Felix he'd been skeptical, not to mention with the whole being German thing and his country having bombed England to hell and back during the mid twentieth century. He was also no Desmond and even if Desmond drove Shaun bloody _insane_ he'd rather have the doofus than some new guy who didn't know what the real stakes were. That had been then. Shaun liked Felix now, he'd been a good fit.

"Yeah?" Shaun asked.

"Mentor's calling," he nodded down the hall.

Shaun's mouth went thin, "Just me?"

"… No. Rebecca and me too," he said and Shaun knew Felix had a feeling what the meeting was about too.

"Right, be right there," and the blonde ducked out from the doorway. Shaun cast a glance at the boxes that held the Animus before following after.

William's office was down the hall and up a flight of stairs. When the monks here had learned that their Mentor was staying here they'd insisted that he make his office in the old office of the leader of the Chinese Assassins. The rooms were simple yet somehow grand, and very big and overlooked the main, front, courtyard.

Rebecca was there already and when she looked and saw Shaun and Felix enter her entire face just _dropped_. She didn't know before but now she did. Damnit William, why did you do this to them? He sat next between Rebecca and Felix in front of William's desk. Fine and not so fine lines dominated William's face and his hair was entirely white now, though still full so at least that was something. Shaun wasn't quite so confident in his own hair when he got to be William's age. He didn't look like he was enjoying himself though.

"Judging by your faces you all know why we're here," William said.

"There has to be another way," Rebecca said.

"We've been looking. There is none," William said. "It isn't the best situation I agree, but it's all we can do. They put her away once, we have to find out how they did it."

"And what about the war?" Shaun asked. "More than half the world is in on it, troops, countries. Everyone said World War Three would happen eventually, but this beyond what even most people claimed would happen."

"With Juno not around to keep sparking new fights perhaps things'll settle down."

"If they don't?" Shaun asked.

William's mouth went thin and flat. "We have to hope. Before something awful happens."

"Something awful has _already_ happened," Rebecca said.

"More awful then!" William shot at her. Shaun squeezed his knees to not say anything. "The last World War ended with the bombing of Japan. So far we've been able to keep full on nuclear war from destroying the world but-

"But it's a threat," Felix finished when William couldn't. "That's worse than any fighting now. Especially with our current nuclear technology. So far the countries involved in the real war don't have nukes, but… eventually one will get their hands on one. After that it's game over."

"Exactly," William nodded. "I'm sure Juno knows that too."

"Why would she want to blow up the world though?" Rebecca asked.

"You kill everyone fighting you get the weak and the meek," Shaun said, looking at her. "Quite literally the meek inherit the earth and then with no standing army enough to stop her, and half the world blown to pieces, the other half dealing with the problem, no one is there to step in when she tries to take over, there's no fight and it all goes back to the way it was before. Before the Toba Event, before whatever our ancestors _did_ to stop not just the ancients, but Juno."

"I know," she said softly, not happy. "But why him?" she looked at William. "Why not you?"

"I wouldn't survive it," William said.

"Well maybe you shouldn't," she spat and then stood up. "Maybe you should have done the right thing years ago instead of making others do it."

"Rebecca please-

"To hell with you," and then she stormed out of the room.

"Rebecca!" Shaun called after her, but she just slammed the door after her. He looked at William, "I'm sorry for her," he said. She'd never been the same since Lucy 'died', and had gotten even worse after what had happened to Desmond.

"It's fine. I know her feelings," William said.

"Her behavior was still-

"She's right to feel like this. I don't blame her," William interrupted. "But, she knows this is the way it is."

"What's Chloe say?" Felix asked, changing the subject.

"She's… come around. A bit. She knows what needs to be done, but she isn't happy about it."

"Can you blame her?" Shaun asked. "You told her you're going to do what you did to your son to your grandson-

"I don't need to be _reminded_ Shaun, thank you," William said shortly. "As it is we've waited a long time. I wanted to wait longer but…

"The world can't wait?" Felix asked.

"No," he sighed, "It can't. Not anymore," he seemed broken by the idea. He looked at Shaun, "Make sure Rebecca puts the Animus together. I want it running by the end of the week for low immersion testing with Felix," he glanced at Felix who nodded, like it was nothing, like it wasn't a machine that had _killed_ people. But then Felix had killed people, maybe it was all the same to Felix.

"I will," Shaun said, but he wasn't happy about it. He didn't want Duncan to go through what Desmond had. I mean the bloody kid was practically his kid. The closest he'd probably ever get to one. "Mentor," he said and pushed himself up out of his chair.

"Felix, stay," William said when Felix made to follow. Felix nodded as Shaun left. He ignored whatever they started to talk about as he closed the door and went to find Rebecca, to talk to her and talk her into putting the Animus back together. He knew it wouldn't be easy but Shaun was one thing if not terribly persistent. She would, and he'd help. He wouldn't let her do this alone.


	15. The Genius III

The Animus hummed as Felix's eyes opened. Rebecca was watching the data screen carefully for anomalies. "So?" she asked as he sat up with a slight grunt. They'd had him reliving the memories of his grandfather, a Nazi, who later went on to marry a Jewish woman who'd saved him when he'd tried to free Jews from a concentration camp. She'd been the Assassin and after having saved his life about four or so times he'd admitted that not only was she better than him, but that he was in love with her. Felix didn't like reliving his grandmother's memories though; said it made him feel inferior.

"Felt all right," Felix said. They'd been doing testing the past two days or so.

"Just all right?" Rebecca asked. It couldn't just be 'all right', they were sending Duncan horrifically far back in time. She'd never tried to get the Animus to go that far back because the further you went the more volatile the memories became, the harder it was to sync and stay that way. At only about a hundred years jumping back into grandpa Amsel was a walk in the park.

"It was fine," Felix clarified. "I didn't even find any glitches this time. Though I had some weird vertigo issues when first syncing. It passed quickly though, few seconds," he shrugged.

"Okay, I'll see what I can do," Rebecca nodded.

"We ready Rebecca?" William asked.

"Shortly," Shaun answered for her. She hadn't spoken to William in over a week. She was still mad at him. Doing this shit to his grandson. Bad enough he'd driven Desmond over the edge. She wouldn't let him do that to Duncan. "Maybe we should try a further jump?" he suggested to Rebecca. "Something pre Christ?"

"You game Felix?" she asked.

"Load it up," Felix said and lay back down. "Can we try somewhere warm?" he asked.

Shaun chuckled, "I've been reviewing your DNA sequences. Did you know you had family from Egypt?"

"Can't say that I did," he admitted.

"Nothing too exciting. Another Jew-

"Why am I not surprised. Not a slave right?"

"Don't know, we'll see," and Shaun typed something into his computer. His computer and Rebecca's were linked and a moment later it appeared on Rebecca's screen. "Look good?" he asked her.

She scanned the data quickly. "Shouldn't be difficult to find. The sync won't be as easy Felix, so you need to be on point until you settle in."

"Roger," and Rebecca activated the Animus. Felix closed his eyes and on a third screen, between Shaun and Rebecca, was the white loading room. The room looked like it was made of a maze of mirrors, Felix's body reflected a million times onto himself. His image shimmered and shifted to another man, darker skinned, shorter and bald. "You're in ancient Cairo, so don't do anything dumb," she said.

"What like talk about God?" Felix teased.

"You know," she rolled her eyes and the rest of the Animus loaded. It was the year fifteen-twenty BCE, still in the early ages of the New Kingdom. Everything looked good and they watched Felix navigate the streets of Cairo easily "How's the sync?" she asked, checking her screen as she asked. "Feel funny?"

"Feels fine. A bit like I'm having an out of body experience, but nothing major."

"It'll settle. Lets give you a task," and she glanced at Shaun who she could see was rapidly reading his own data stream. He nodded and transferred something to her computer. "No fancy ancestor this time. You're out going to the bazaar, I'm uploading your objectives," and she routed the 'mission' to Felix's HUD.

"Oh goodie, grocery shopping," Felix droned.

"Rebecca," William said again. Rebecca ignored him. She wasn't talking to him. William sighed, "Shaun."

"Sir?" he asked.

"Are we good?"

"I think so, yeah," Shaun said and Rebecca wasn't looking at either of them, though could feel Shaun looking at her, slightly concerned.

"Good. Have Felix finish, I'm bringing Duncan in."

"R-right," Shaun said and they heard William leave. "Bec?" he asked her carefully. Her hands were fists on the desk before she smashed them into her keyboard. She… she wasn't a violent person. But-

"I'm not going to let him ruin Duncan," she said tightly.

"We won't," Shaun said and reached out and grabbed her hand. "He's going to be fine," he promised.

She looked at him, "And what if he isn't?" she asked in a small voice. "We don't know what the Animus will do to him that far back. What if he ends up like Des-

"He won't," Shaun said again, firmer this time. "This Animus isn't like that one. It's safe. You made it safe."

"What if I didn't-

"You did. Now stop worrying. Duncan is going to be fine. We talked about this remember? He's got a time limit."

"Right," she agreed. A time limit to help prevent the Bleed because even though Rebecca was good there were some things you couldn't quite get rid of entirely. Felix had started to use nineteen-forties German slang, but it wasn't bad, just a mild case of speech variant dyslexia where words got swapped around by the brain. He'd revert back to normal speech patterns in a few days, Rebecca had seen it before.

"Here we are," William said and Rebecca turned around to face the Miles men. God Duncan looked like his father. It was sort of scary actually how much they looked alike, though there was a bit more softness in his facial features from Lucy. And of course, his eyes.

"Hey Shaun, Anny B," Duncan smiled at them both. Rebecca almost frowned. Duncan looked like Desmond, but she'd never seen Desmond smile like that. So free and without care. He'd been haunted since Rebecca knew him.

"Hey D," Rebecca said. "You ready?" she asked. They'd explained the Animus to him already, what it did and what they needed him to do.

Duncan looked at Felix in the Animus a moment, then back at Rebecca. "Yeah," he said, though Rebecca could tell he was nervous. She didn't blame him.

"Okay we need to pull Felix out and then you can try it out," she said and turned back to her computer and ordered a manuel desynce. Felix sat up a second later. "How do you feel?" she asked him.

"My mouth tastes like dirt," Felix said, making a face. "Other than that, just fine," he grinned a little. Then he spotted Duncan, "Ready to do this big man?" he asked.

"I guess," Duncan said and it seemed like every time someone asked him he got more nervous.

"It's just like taking a nap," Felix beckoned him and they traded places. Duncan lay back slowly, looking at Felix, Rebecca, William, and then back to Felix. "Now just relax and listen to everything your aunt says, got it?"

"I already listen to everything she says," Duncan joked and Felix laughed.

"Then that'll be the easy part," he gave Rebecca reassuring smile.

"Close your eyes Duncan," Rebecca said. She ran the start up sequence and checked the middle screen. Duncan appeared in the loading screen. "Feel okay?" she asked him.

"Yeah, I feel fine," Duncan said. "The whole talking thing is weird though."

"Weird?"

"Like… strange. Not bad weird," Duncan shrugged.

"Okay. I'm going to run the sequence, just relax and when you see images try to mimic the world around you. We'll do some easy stuff until you fully sync."

"Okay," Duncan said and Rebecca pulled up the sequence. She and Shaun had found it a few years ago after carefully looking through Desmond's old DNA sequence. After they'd found it in Desmond's it'd be easy to line it up with Duncan's sequence. She got a ding when the computer found a match and launched the sequence.

Rebecca turned back to the center screen, everyone was watching it. Then Duncan's avatar changed. The man in his place was both fiercely tall and dark skinned and long boned with strong cheekbones and narrow limbs. He was dressed in a red and white uniform, more white than red that left the shoulders and neck bare and had a black band around his throat and wrists. "So that's him?" William asked, standing behind them, startling Rebecca.

"Yeah," Shaun said softly. "Funny, he doesn't look like he did in Clay's Truth."

"The Animus lies," Rebecca said. They all looked at her. "It's just code. If someone tampers with it it can look like whatever you want. They looked like Clay's parents in the Truth," she said.

"How's the environment building look?" William asked.

Rebecca looked at the screen where the loading bar was up. "Seventy percent and rising. We're almost there. Duncan," she added, engaging the speech function.

"Yeah?" his words sounded slightly garbled.

"It's about to launch. Don't panic."

"… Okay," Duncan said.

Then the Animus finished loading and began to build the world around Duncan's avatar. Rebecca's eyes narrowed when she saw a waver in the image. It lasted a second, then settled. Her lips went tight and then her heart shot into her throat when the image suddenly cut out and showed the loading screen.

Beside her in the Animus Duncan suddenly sat up with something a bit less than a scream. He grabbed his head in both hands with a cry, clearly of pain and leaned forward with a sob. "Duncan!" Rebecca lurched out of her chair and was at the Animus in seconds.

"What happened?" William demanded as Rebecca sat on the Animus and gathered Duncan into her arms, no easy feat when he was taller than her.

"He desynced is what," Rebecca said, Duncan pressed against her, his face on her shoulder.

"You said it was fine-

"You're sending him sixty-thousand years back in his DNA," Rebecca snapped at him. "What did you think was going to happen? The markers for the Animus to grab onto and build on top of are barely non existent."

"Then do it again."

"Shut up," Rebecca growled hugging her friend's son to her. "Push too hard and you get a broken mind."

"We've had this discussion before Rebecca-

"And we aren't going anywhere until Duncan's ready for it," she hissed. "You want the answers so bad you lay in the Animus and see what it does to you," she narrowed her eyes at him. Nonviolent though she may be no one threatened Duncan's safety while she was around. The day they'd brought him from Rome, before Chloe had joined them, and handed him to her to keep safe she'd sworn nothing would hurt him. She knew Lucy wasn't dead. Duncan's existence was proof. But she wasn't around. Rebecca heard she was in a coma and had never woken. Duncan had no mother, had no father, he didn't even know Lucy's name. All he had was them. Rebecca would be damned if she let anything happen to him, for Desmond, for Lucy, for herself. He was all she'd ever get.

There was a long silence. "Fine," William finally said.

"Duncan," Rebecca said gently, still holding him, still comforting him. "Tell me what happened."

He pulled away from her and looked at her wide eyed. "It hurt," he said, sounding confused. "And it was hard to focus and move and I just… I just-

"It's okay. You fell out, that's fine," at least he'd fallen forward, back into the white loading screen, and not back into the black room. She didn't know what she'd actually do if she had to deal with that again. "We're done for today-

"Rebecca-

"We're done," she shot a hot look at William and he shut up.

"I can go again," Duncan said.

She looked at him, "Duncan, you don't have to-

"I can go again," he said again. His mouth worked a moment and then he said, "If my dad could do it, so can I," he said it seriously.

Rebecca looked at William, surprised. They purposefully didn't tell Duncan much about his parents. So he didn't have to miss them, so he didn't feel like he was missing out on knowing them. "Who told you that?" William asked.

Duncan had that look of a kid who knew they'd just said something they weren't supposed to. "Uh…" well no time to back out now. "Shaun," he admitted.

"Shaun," William looked at Shaun sternly.

"What?" Shaun huffed. "The kid should know, okay? Not like the guy didn't exist," he folded his arms over his chest and William had that 'I'll talk to you about this later' look going on.

"I want to go back," Duncan said again.

Rebecca sighed and looked at him, "Okay," she said and tried not to look sad. "We'll go easy this time. Fall back through history, yeah?" she asked and stood up. She sat down at her desk. "We'll start a bit more recent and jump backwards until we're where we need to be. Sound good?"

Duncan lay back in the Animus, "Yeah," he nodded.

"Okay, who first?" she looked at Shaun.

"Connor?" Shaun asked.

"Easy," she agreed and ran the startup sequence that put Duncan in the white room.

"Rebecca we don't have time for-

"We'll make time," she wasn't looking at William as she spoke. "And if I hear one more thing about the way I run my Animus I'm going to remove you from my work area."

"Rebecca you can't coddle him all the time," William said. Shaun and Felix had wisely stayed out of their on-going argument.

Rebecca turned around and looked at William, then at Felix. "Felix," she said in a nice tone.

"Uh… yeah?" he asked nervously.

"Be a dear and escort the Mentor out please."

"…Uh."

"Now see here Rebecca-

"Out!" she called and turned back around. "You can leave on your own, Felix can help you out, or I will kick you out," and she was bringing up old Connor specs for Duncan. Ones she hadn't seen since Desmond but that the Animus could run without trouble.

"Sir, I think it'd be best," Felix said.

She could feel William steaming, "Don't think I'll forget this insubordination Rebecca," he growled.

"Are you still here?" she asked airily.

"Sir," and William stormed out. After a moment Felix went after, closing the door behind them.

"You okay?" Shaun asked after a solid minute.

"Fine," she said curtly. "Lets do this," she engaged speech. "This is Revolutionary America, Duncan. Boston."

"I've never been…" Duncan said.

"I know. Shaun's going to give you a list of objectives to do. It'll help you get used to the Animus and allow you to sync properly. So just listen to Shaun," and she input the directions for the Animus to build the world. "And I'll monitor."

"Okay," Duncan said. "This is cool," he added and unlike before there was no glitch. Duncan synced perfectly into Connor.

"Okay, now Duncan," Shaun said. "Do you see your heads up display?"

"I think so? You mean all this stuff around… Connor you said it was?"

"Yes. The Animus works as a puppeteering device, meaning that while you control your ancestor you aren't exactly them. Clear so far?"

"Yeah."

"Good," and Shaun explained the HUD and before he'd even finished Duncan was climbing the nearest, tallest, building to get a viewpoint.

They let Duncan play as Connor for an hour, exploring old Boston and getting into trouble with Red Coats. The fighting style was Connor and it was only here that they saw some glitching. Rebecca told Duncan not to fight the fighting mechanics. His ancestors moved in a specific way and he wouldn't be able to alter them. After that it was smooth going. After an hour she pulled Duncan back into the white and she and Shaun decided on the next ancestor.

"Do you still have Ezio?" Shaun asked her.

"Not on this machine," she said.

"Right, two seconds," he said as Duncan ran around in the white room. The sequence appeared on her screen a moment later. "Decided pre Roman Ezio would be the way to go. But…"

"Not revenge monster Ezio?"

"Exactly," Rebecca chuckled and loaded up Ezio's memories.

"Oh wow! Where's this?" Duncan asked as the Animus built Venice from the ground up.

"Venice, Italy. This little stooge you're playing is Ezio Auditore da Firenze."

"… I'm not even going to try and say that," Duncan said.

"Your father thought the same," Shaun lamented.

"I like Venice better than Boston. More stuff to climb," Duncan proclaimed as he jumped across canals. They watched him meet Rosa and carry her to safety and meet Ugo and Antonio. Rebecca and Shaun were also deciding on the next ancestor. Really though it wasn't hard to pick. They were going back in time in greater and greater jumps. From modern times to Connor was about two hundred years, from Connor to Ezio was about three or four. Five hundred was a good next jump and then they'd start going by thousands and tens of thousands.

About five hundred years back from Ezio was Altair.

Duncan enjoyed Venice but they couldn't spend all day there and an hour and a half later they were fitting him into eleven-ninety-one Jerusalem.

"Why's he yelling at me?" Duncan asked as Malik unloaded into Altair.

"Because you killed his brother," Shaun said.

"Well that's not very nice."

"And made him lose his arm."

"He's missing an arm!? Oh wow I didn't notice! I can't say sorry…"

"You can't break character," Rebecca said. "You can only say what your ancestor would have said or some variant of that in the situation."

"Well you should know this guy thinks lefty here needs to shut his fucking mouth before he does it for him. Can I say that?"

"Can you?"

"… No," Duncan said after a moment. Then Malik released him and he climbed out of the bureau. "Where's this?"

"Jerusalem, Israel, well, Syria at the time," Shaun said.

"Aren't those the countries papa's always going on about?" Duncan asked."

"Yes."

"They're pretty," and in typical fashion in all the ancestors Duncan had been in he climbed the nearest tall building possible. "I still like Venice better," Duncan mused.

"Well you'll have a lost of cities to check out," Shaun said. In the two hours he'd been pouring over Duncan's code to find good sync points that were a good distance apart. "Though the next one will be interesting."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, next to get to relive the memories of John."

"John? That's it? Man. Lame. After Connor, Ezio and Al… Altair," he fumbled the name a little, "John is so lame."

Shaun chuckled, "Ah, but this John a celebrity."

"Really? They had those back then?"

"Oh yes. They called him John the Baptist."

"Never heard of him," Duncan said boredly and Rebecca laughed at the look on Shaun's face. Shaun just groaned and said something that sounded like 'like father like son'.


	16. The First

full glossary at the bottom, this includes words you haven't seen yet as the glossary is kept up to date with my blog updates which are a week ahead of both this site and AO3. All 'The First' chapters will have the glossery at bottom.

* * *

00000, xxxx xxxxxx x xxx xxxxx

It was quiet night. The insects were out, buzzing and humming in the humid night air. The jungle surrounded was quiet save for now and then there was the sound of a breaking twig. A'dame liked quiet nights, it meant the sticks were all bundled up in their hutches and weren't out and about or singing. He hated the singing. Not because he actually hated it, but because he missed it. There was no singing allowed in the long house. They'd been picked to work. Sometimes he envied the sticks. For all that they had it worse than him he thought they sometimes had it better.

A'dame walked his route without meeting a body. He had the outer perimeter watch that night, near the jungle. He didn't like it. No one liked it. It was his turn though, there wasn't anything for it. His route took him beyond the perimeter and into the jungle down a well lit path to the manor a huge building that rose above the treetops. Sweat trickled down his thin legs as he walked. It was the middle of the blessed wet season and so was hot, and wet; very wet. He didn't mind the heat so much. He hated the humidity though, and the rain.

The manor loomed brilliant in front of him as he neared it, light shimmering from the windows, bright and constant compared to the lights the sticks got, or even what he and his fellow keswikk got. He made his way to the guard house at the manor's gate. A keswikk was standing station there, dressed like A'dame was. "Ko," they called when they saw him, raising a hand in greeting.

"Ko," A'dame called back, also raising his hand.

"No trouble?" they asked him.

"None," he nodded.

"Good. Master's having guests tonight."

"Oh?" he hadn't heard that.

"Ja," they nodded, "some hensen from the north," a roll of the eyes told A'dame exactly what he needed to know of this guest. He frowned.

"Entourage?"

"Ja," they nodded warily. "Way I heard like fifteen and a besskin."

"A besskin?" that was unusual.

"Ja, off isn't it? They're looking for something here. What else would you need a besskin for? Just stay out of the way and keep the sticks inside, we'll be fine," he waved A'dame off.

"When are they coming?" he asked them.

"Soon," they shrugged. "Listen for bells if you wanna know."

"I will," A'dame said, nodding.

"Back to your route," he waved A'dame off again, firmer this time. A'dame nodded again and turned away from guard house and made his way back down the jungle path lined with lights. The stick compound was quiet when he arrived and he stood at the edge of the forest watching his fellow keswikk going about their patrols. With a sigh A'dame started around the perimeter. He had the annoying perimeter duty that was also a bit dangerous since there were big, nasty, creatures in the jungle that would have no problem gobbling someone up, proeathan or seren alike. Didn't matter, they had big, sharp, teeth, and you were a fleshy little body.

A'dame jumped nearly out of his skin at bushes rustling by the drive that led up to the manor for vehicles. He reached down and grabbed his baton, little good it'd do against a jaguar or some other monster animal. But it was better than his fists. Then a face appeared from a low hanging branch, saw him, and froze. It was a woman. She stared at him. He stared back. She had… golden eyes. They were like his eyes. There was a long silence and then she pressed her finger to her lips firmly. Slowly he nodded and then she folded herself back into the tree boughs and he heard a soft rustle before silence again.

He blinked slowly, stunned. What in the world had that been? He moved closer to the trees but like light was bad. "Hello?" he called, not too loudly though. He got no answer. "Hello," he called again and stepped into the forest, pulling his baton from his belt as he did.

Leaves and twigs squished under his sandals though did not snap or crackle. It was the wet season and the jungle was moist and soggy underfoot meaning his feet stuck to the ground a bit and made it slightly hard to walk, especially with the thick underbrush. "Hello," he called again, the light from the compound and the trail already trickling away into darkness of the undergrowth. He couldn't wander too much further into the jungle.

A'dame looked around wildly at the sound of trees swaying in a windless motion. "Someone there?" he called, his breath coming a bit quicker now and he knew if he needed to he could and would run for the light.

He nearly screamed when someone suddenly landed in front of him and slapped a hand over his mouth. It was the woman with the golden eyes. "What are you doing?" she hissed at him and slowly removed her hand from his mouth. She had a strange accent, clearly she was not from here.

"Me? What are you doing here? This is private property," he said sternly.

She sort of laughed. She had a musical laugh. "Says who?" she asked, moving around him. He kept turning to keep her in his sights.

"My master owns this land," he said firmly.

"Own?" she blinked at him. She laughed again, this time at his expense. "You cannot own the earth lhetzin," she poked him in the chest with a grin. He scowled at her. "Some things cannot be bought. The earth is one. People, are another."

His eyes widened and he pointed his baton at her. "You're a runaway," he said.

"No," she said. "I am just not bought. I'm looking for something, and you're in the way," she turned him around back towards the light. "Go back to your light little heen," she gave him a bit of a push and he stumbled forward a bit.

"That isn't my name," he snapped and turned around. She was gone though. "Hey!" he cried and shook his baton at the lower tree line. He almost screamed when she swung upside-down next to him. "Stop that," he was sternly keeping his eyes on her face and not where her shirt hung down, exposing her stomach.

"Awww, little swasu has hurt feelings?"

"You're the one running around in my master's land!" he said fiercely. "And calling me names. Who is really the swasu here kisbit," he growled.

"Then what is your name?" she asked, swinging slightly by her knees.

"A'dame," he said.

She frowned. "What a heen you are," she said. He really almost smacked her for that. "They even took your name."

"I was born with this name," he growled.

"And yet they still took it from you," she swung up out of sight. He looked around and this time didn't jump when she swung down on his other side. "It's proeathan. You are seren but wear a proeathan name. How tragic," then she hummed. "You should take your name back."

He rolled his eyes at her. "I have no name to take back."

"You could use the non-proeathan version," she said, her white teeth glinted in the darkness. "Adam," the way she said it made him shiver for some reason. "I like that better. Go back to your duty keswikk Adam," she said, "and I shall go back to mine," and then she swung back up out of sight.

"Hey wait!" he called, "You didn't tell me… yours," he ended in a sigh. She was gone. With a groan A'dame rubbed his face with one hand. He couldn't spend any more time out here, he needed to get back to his post. He stomped back through the jungle to the compound to continue his route. He kept an eye on the trees as he walked and he was on the other side of his patrol when he heard the bells signaling his master's guests were arriving. He was so glad he didn't live in the manor now.

He walked his route, around the compound and up to the guard house, until his shift was over and his replacement found him. With a yawn he headed back to the long house and his bunk. A'dame took just enough time to take off some of his clothes before climbing onto the raised pallet, no need for a blanket during the hot, damp, wet season. He was asleep in moments.

—

The sound of yelling and running woke him with a jolt. It was just after sunrise if the light from the long house entrance was any indication and his fellow keswikk were hurriedly dressing and leaving at nearly dead sprints. A'dame sat up and grabbed his clothes, not knowing what the need for urgency was, only that it was needed.

He was out the front of the long house, fully dressed, shoving his baton into his belt in less than three minutes, joining the others who were running towards the manor down the jungle path. In the light the jungle was less intimidating but everyone still gave the edge of the path a good foot of clearance. They were the late arrivals though and A'dame could see other keswikk already at the manor. He did a brief sweep and estimated that really, this was almost all of the keswikk, meaning there was only a skeleton crew watching the sticks. Whatever had happened was bad.

They arrived at the manor where Cavalara was standing at the front gate. She was not A'dame's master but she was a proeathan who oversaw the keswikk and thus his boss. She was busy giving orders and a group of keswikk ran off. "Hurry it up kento," she said sharply. The group he'd been with stood before her. "Someone's been killed inside the house," wide eyes stared back at her in horror and shock. "The culprit is still afoot, go around to the north and search the jungle. Signal if you find anything. Go!" and she shooed them.

There was a brief moment where they all looked at each other before nodding and together as a group of about a dozen keswikk they took off at a run around to the other side of the manor that sat in the middle of a large clearing. When they reached the jungle they broke into groups of two and entered the jungle.

"This is bad," his partner said.

"You're telling me," A'dame said. If they didn't find the culprit for the death of a proeathan every seren would be punished for it.

"Didn't you work last night?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't you see anything?"

For a moment A'dame thought of the strange woman with the golden eyes. The one who spoke in a strange accent who said that while she wasn't a runaway she was no slave either. It made no sense to him. "No," he said. "Just the trees."

—

They found nothing, but they didn't stop searching. Until it was dark, or they found their culprit, they'd keep looking. A'dame was hopelessly lost though. They were far from the manor. He knew though that if something happened his master could find him, from the collar around his neck and the bracelets. He didn't feel either any more. They were thin and skin tight. Honestly they just felt like his skin at this point. So he didn't worry about getting lost and never found.

They came into a clearing and stopped because this clearing wasn't empty. The body of a keswikk was there, lying face down in the soft earth, blood pooled around it in a puddle.

Slowly, A'dame entered the clearing because his partner refused to. He went over to the body and poked it with his baton. It didn't move and he rolled it over. The dead man's face was a mask of horror. A'dame put a hand over his mouth before, with slightly trembling fingers, closed their eyes. He'd never seen a dead body before. "We should head back, report th-" when he looked up for his partner he saw they were gone. "Kesin?" he called. There was no answer. "Kesin come out this is so not funny," he swallowed when they didn't appear. "Kesin," he called again and was now starting to freak out. Someone came out of the jungle to his side, "Oh there you a-

A man built like a jaguar came from the jungle with what looked like a deer under one arm. They dropped the deer and A'dame then saw it wasn't a deer. It was long and thin limbed like a deer. But it was not one. It was Kesin. "Shit," A'dame breathed, staring at the big man in fear.

"Another one of your useless kesswit," and he winced at the term. "How many of you are there?"

"Stay away," A'dame scrambled to his feet, grabbing his baton and putting it between him and the other man. He was built unlike anyone A'dame had seen before. He was pale as a proeathan with sandy hair and striking blue eyes and just as tall as one, taller even then A'dame and A'dame was nearly the height of a proeathan. Unlike others he wasn't thin and wiry, the way most seren were built. No. He was huge and muscular with arms like tree limbs and a chest like a boulder. A'dame felt frail just looking at him, an infant in front of a giant.

"Sure kesswit," he sneered. "Can't have you calling wolf," and he came towards A'dame. They took a swipe at him and he ducked down and jumped out of reach. A'dame wasn't trained for this! He only had to deal with sticks, not- not this monster! The blonde seren made to strike him again and he ducked. Again, and a again. It was all A'dame could do to stay out of the way for though the man was big he was also surprisingly fast.

A'dame left the clearing, for the jungle and then turned and ran. The goliath followed, crashing through the trees after him. Then, all at once, there was silence. A'dame stopped and spun, panting as he looked around. The only sound in the jungle was his panicked breathing and the rapid gallop of his heart. In the distance he could hear monkeys and birds, but nothing close.

He screamed when something huge handed on him. He crumbled when the monster of a sere landed on him. They reached out and grabbed A'dame around the throat with their big meat hands. A'dame choked and grabbed at them desperately. He pushed at their face and grabbed at their hands but he couldn't find purchase. He was going to die. The thought shot through him like a knife. He thrashed more viciously and looked up and over the huge man's shoulder, freezing in sudden surprise.

It was the woman. She was above them in the trees… with a knife! It was no home forged knife. It was a gleaming proeathan blade. She was watching and he knew she saw him. What was she waiting for?! An invitation?!

It was getting harder to stay conscious. His eye lids fluttered and his struggling was weaker. The blonde seren grinned in triumph. Then, like a shadow, or a bat, the woman dropped down from the trees with her knife. A'dame stared when the tip of the knife appeared out the front of the big seren's throat, dangerously close to his own face. Then the hands around his throat went slack and the big seren was being shoved off him.

A'dame coughed and gasped for breath and life. When he finally felt like he wasn't dying he looked over at the dead seren. The woman was crouched by him looking like she was doing something or another. "You," he rasped.

She looked over her shoulder at him, "Not dead I see," she said.

"Why did you wait?" he asked.

"I was deciding if I wanted to save you or not," she turned away.

"D-deciding. Oh wonderful," the woman stood up, tucking something into a pouch on her belt next to her proeathan forged knife. "Decided I couldn't let one of us die," and she offered him a hand. He eyed it a moment before taking it and was surprised at the ease she helped him up.

In the light she looked different. For one she was very short and was not nearly as dark as A'dame was, her skin like bronze and not night. Her hair was curly but not kinky, and rather long compared to the sticks he watched or even his fellow keswikk. Her mouth was small, teeth white and straight. Like all seren her clothes were simple, dark gray and dappled with brown, dark green and navy, it looked like the scarf she wore should go around her head. And, of course, those golden eyes of her. Like his eyes.

"One of you?" he asked, confused.

"Teiemplarai," she said like it was obvious. "Golden eyes," she pointed at her eyes. She looked him over, "Never seen a stick teiemplarai," she admitted.

"I'm not a stick," he growled.

"Stick's a stick no matter what clothes they wear," she said and they fixed her scarf over her head and hair, putting a band across her forehead to hold it in place. She looked at the blonde seren, "Need to call this in," her mouth became a slash and she plucked a device from her belt. She spoke some other tongue into it and was clearly being spoken back to. Then she put it away.

"What are you?" he asked, confused and curious.

"I teiemplarai," she said with a smile, putting her hands on her hips. "A besskin."

He blinked, "You… you're the besskin my master's guest brought?" She nodded. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for this," she prodded the dead seren with her boot. He realized then she was wearing boots and not sandals. "Maybe I found something else too," she smiled at him and he was glad his dark skin made it hard to tell he was currently blushing. "C'mon Adam, lets go back," and she started to walk away.

He groaned, "My name isn't Adam, it's A'dame," he huffed.

She just giggle, "I like Adam better," scowling he followed her.

"What's your name? You never told me," he said moodily as she tossed something onto the seren's body.

She looked back at him as they walked and said with a slight smile, "My name's Eve."

* * *

**besskin- **a highly skilled seren trained to hunt/kill people or run away slaves

**gerk**- something imaginary or fanciful, also the term for an imaginary friend or used to describe crazy/schizo people

**heen-** follower, someone who licks someone else's ass

**hensen- **deragative term for a proeathan used by seren. Also a term used for proeathans who are not their masters. Not something you would call to a proeathan's face ever

**hess- **a generic pronoun slur like 'a shit' or 'a fuck', ve-hess is 'little shit' or 'little fuck'

**hess- **generic slur meaning 'shit' or 'fuck'

**ja- **yes/indeed/agreement/uh/wow/like it is sort of a 'yes/placeholder' word with lots of nuiance that would take me too long to explain.

**kento- **deragatory seren word for someone who is slow or mentally challenged

**kesswit-** deragatory term for a keswikk, means something like 'one who tortures their family**'**

**kessy- **sort of like an addition to a 'yes'. Like 'yeah that's what I said' but not rude. Just a way to alter 'ja'

**keswikk-** a slave guard

**kisbit- **deragatory term for a seren woma, similar to 'cunt'

**ko- **generic semi formal seren greeting

**lhetzin- **moron/idiot, can be used endearingly

**long house- **where keswikk live/sleep

**lovnvo**- traitor, means something like 'twisted soul'

**Noko ja, [name] ve-hessla**- I hate everything, [name] you little shit

**proeathan- **those who came before

**sen'en/sen'in- **ma'am/sir

**seren- **early man

**stem- **slang term used by seren to describe frail/fragile looking pale skinned seren

**stick- **slang term used by seren to describe dark skined, tall, thin limbed, seren.

**swasu- **child/baby, deragatory

**teiemplarai- **proeathan word for seren with golden eyes and a 6th sense

**trunk- **slang term used by seren to describe seren of any color that are both tall and broad


	17. The Child II

Hua Shan 2030

The wind tugged at Duncan's shirt as he pulled himself up to the top of the temple. His papa and Anny B always told him to not climb on the temple but he did so anyway. He'd talked to the nice men who lived there and said it was fine, it wouldn't be the first time their temple had been climbed on by teenagers. They said it breathed life back into the building as it hadn't been in centuries. They said it was good for the old building to remember what it was like to live again. He was pretty sure the others didn't know that, but then they all sort of ignored the monks going about their own business and let the natives go about theirs. Duncan liked them and probably spoke better Mandarin than the adults too. He had a lot of time to do nothing but wrestled the language into submission. It was fun!

It was spring though the weather was still cool, but Duncan ran hot. He'd always run hot. His normal temperature was nearly a fever, apparently it had freaked out the doctor when he was a baby. His nana said she and his father ran hot too. More ways he was like a man he'd never met, never known. Despite that though he... felt connected to him. More so than his mother at least. If the others talked rarely about Desmond they even rarer still talked about his mother. He didn't even know what she looked like. He knew what Desmond looked like even though he'd never seen a picture; all he had to do was look in a mirror. All he knew was that his mother had blue eyes, he didn't even know her name. Seventeen years, he'd be eighteen in a few months, and he knew nothing about his parents. What they sounded like, what their dreams were, if they had a sense of humor, if they were strict, if they loved each other … if they'd have loved him.

Sometimes it made him sad. Yeah he loved his nana and papa and Anny B and Shaun and Felix. Even papa's guards weren't that bad. But they weren't his parents. He only had the idea of parents from the shows and movies his papa let him watch, so he knew what parents were supposed to be like but he'd never... had it first hand. He knew his nana tried, she really did. But she wasn't his mother, and she never would be. He wanted to know about his parents! Though he couldn't ask. No one would answer him anyway. They'd just say 'not now Duncan' or, 'it's better if you didn't know' or 'We'll tell you when you're older'. How much older did he have to be though? He was practically an adult and the most her knew about his dad was that his name was Desmond, he'd been an Assassin- an amazing Assassin- he looked a lot like Duncan, that Anny B and Shaun had known him, he'd used the Animus and that he'd been killed by Templars. All he knew about his mother was she had blue eyes and freckles. Anny B had commented on his once when he was twelve. That was it. That was all he knew.

But that could change. He hadn't told anyone though and just thinking about it made Duncan feel like he was jinxing himself. So he didn't think about it either. It was super secret.

Duncan sat on the tiled roof of the old temple. The mountains and valleys stretched out in front of him. He felt like he was on top of the world up here and sometimes clouds rolled in from the higher peaked and blanketed the temple in a hazy, white blanket. Shaun hated that, Duncan thought it was cool. Story of his life really. Duncan literally thought everything was cool, the adults didn't. But then everything Duncan knew was restricted.

He wasn't allowed outside whatever house or place they were staying at by himself. He wasn't allowed to use the computer without permission. He wasn't allowed to watch certain things, he knew that though didn't actually know just what he was missing. But he was allowed to have just about anything else he wanted. He knew in some ways he was a spoiled idiot, and others he was a princess locked away in a tower. Like once he wanted to try a food he found on the internet, he'd just mentioned it in passing to his nana and the next week they were having it. Anny B also let him play computer games, though not certain ones. Not like… baby stuff though. He got new ones, adult ones. Basically if he saw it, he could have it, within reason of course.

He just couldn't leave.

Down the mountain, in the valley, he could see a village. Anny B and nana had taken him down there a few times because he was at the point where he was nearly climbing on everyone he was so bored. They were nice people, used to the chill of the mountains and very much out of the way. Nana couldn't speak any Mandarin, and Anny B only so much. Duncan had done most of the talking. He'd been… shy, at first at least, nervous about his grasp on the language. But everyone thought he was rather sweet. It occurred to him later that he'd learned all his Mandarin from old men meaning he talked like a properly respectful old man. When he'd told Anny B this revelation she'd just laughed. There were no young monks to learn Mandarin from though so… he was stuck with sounding like an old man.

Thinking about it made Duncan grin. Sometimes he did feel like an old man in a young person's body. He was just… surrounded by older people, his entire life. He'd never known someone his own age, never talked to one. Well, except Sonno. But Sonno hadn't been real, his nana said he just had an active imagination. Sonno had been a nice play mate for a boy without any friends. But he'd grown out of her even though sometimes he did miss her because it broke up the monotony of talking to the same five or so people all the time.

He shivered as a stiff breeze raked the roof of the temple, seeping through his layers of clothes. He'd been up here a while, watching the world shift and spin around him. Dinner would be soon. Tofu and vegetables again. What he wouldn't give for a burger right now. With a sigh he got to his feet and wandered to the edge of the roof. From here he could jump down to a lower roof and the thick wall, and if he wanted the ground below, outside the temple. Every time he came up here he contemplated jumping off the other side of the wall, to be away. He never did it.

Duncan bit his lips, looked at the wall, then swung down from the roof to carefully climb down the side of the temple to the ground. He couldn't leave. He didn't know where to go. He didn't know what he'd do. And he still had a plan. He wanted to know his parents. He'd never get to do that if he decided to leave. Maybe one day, but not today.


	18. The First II

00000, xx'xx

_Eve brought me back to the manor. She alerted her 'commander' of my existence and I don't think I'd ever actually seen a proeathan reprimanded before. It was sort of funny. Except not really since the one being reprimanded was my master. I thought I would get punished for it. Whatever_ it _was I'd done, because I was sure I'd done something. At the very least I'd let Kesin die._

_There was no punishment. Instead I had my bindings removed. They were replaced with new ones. They stretched over my skin strangely at first, like I was wearing a new skin. I knew what this meant, everyone does._

_I'd been sold._

_The manor and the jungle had been my home though. I'd been born there, raised by my mother there. I'd never known anything else but Shun Castar or the compound or the long house. Somehow I'm not surprised Eve found it all painfully amusing. I won't even lie and say that I wasn't scared. I_ was _scared. I was going to be taken away from all I'd ever known and sent somewhere else. I didn't know where or what awaited me. I didn't know anything._

_I learned though._

_Eve was_ teimplarai _and_ besskin_, I was_ teimplarai _and would be made_ besskin _too. Seren with golden proeathan eyes,_ teimplarai_, the thing that shouldn't exist. I didn't know what that meant then, what it entailed. I do now._

_It means we are a different sort of slave._

_Eve's commander brought me to the biggest place I'd ever seen. Eve called it a 'city'. She called it Atlantis. Like everything I did she laughed when I saw it. In Atlantis we were left in the care of another_ teimplarai_. From there it was work. I'm no stranger to work. But not this sort of work. This is fighting work, tracking work. _

Teimplarai _are all_ besskin_._ Besskin _hunt seren, capture runaway slaves, kill them if needed. I was taught to__hunt my own people, to _kill_ them. I didn't want to, who really wants to kill their own people? But there is no choice amid the seren, you do and do and do not ask. You have a master and you must always do what they say. You do not run your life. You move to their whims. People are born, grow, and die, in the same place. Entire plantations or factories or anywhere all have the same sort of seren. We are one. A mass. It's different in the _teimplarai_ though. `_

_We are all seren, of all colors, of all places and nation-states, and walks of life. We all come from different places, different lives, different masters, and different duties. I was not the only _keswikk_ but there were others too. One of us, Anna, was a house slave, she watched the small children of her master. Another, Roy, worked at a plantation harvesting vegetables. But who we here means nothing here. Here we are all the same. It is a family._

_They call me Adam here. I've stopped correcting them, it does no good. Where we live, somewhere outside Atlantis, there are no proeathan. No one doubts they own us but our freedom and family we make here is our leash. I cannot imagine running away. I would leave everything. Lose everything. But no proeathans include no proeathan names for anything, including names. They convert proeathan words back to seren to the point that sometimes it's like we speak a different language. When I first met Eve I thought she had a strange accent, but in just a few years her accent is my accents. We are one, all of us. We are not a mass, we are a unit. Trained by each other to fight and kill and do things normal seren, or even normal proeathan cannot do. It marks us as clearly as the bands on our wrists and necks and I will never forget who or what I am._

_I am Adam of the templars._

—

It was morning. Adam knew it was morning because he could hear someone moving about his bunk. He opened one eye in time to catch Eve before she pounced. That didn't save him from being pounced though. "I got him!" she cried as she tackled him into and then off the bed. "I got the stick!" From down the ward he heard laughter. Lilith probably, she and Eve were inseparable.

"I'm not a stick," Adam groaned and tried to wriggle out from under the small woman. She was nearly half his size but goodness it was like she was a monster.

"Sticks a stick no matter what they wear," Lilith called in a sing song voice from out of ear shot.

"So's a stem, you don't hear me saying anything though do you?" he called back. There was no answer to that.

"C'mon Eve," Lilith appeared a moment later. Where Eve and Adam were dark Lilith was light. She was like a shard of ice, all alabaster skin and pale corn silk hair her golden eyes strangely light, almost yellow. She was nearly as tall as Adam but not long and thin, rather curved and supple with a proud nose and high cheekbones. She was the single most beautiful thing Adam had ever seen. Other templars said the same. Lilith was a devil though. She could be sweet one moment and sour the next and deserved her place at the top of the pecking order with the so called 'angels' like Michael and Lucifer. "Lets leave the _stick_ to get ready or we'll miss breakfast."

Eve was still all sprawled over him without care. She looked at Lilith, at Adam, and then nodded, getting off him. She tugged at her clothes as she got up. "See you at breakfast," she smiled at Adam nicely before following Lilith out of the ward. Only once they were gone he had to wonder… what they were they even doing here? This was the men's ward. He contemplated that from the floor for a few moments before getting to his feet with a groan, he needed to get ready for the day.

—

Adam straightened when an archangel walked past on his way to breakfast. There was a hierarchy amid them known as the angel-grade. At the bottom were the new recruits, nothing 'fresh meat' they said and then laughed when the new ones looked _terrified_. Adam had been one of them once. He knew it was just a scare tactic, every new recruit was a sibling, and cherished, for they were so few. Above that was a sort of unknown amount of ranks between that and the first angel grade. The space between varied from person to person, then you hit angel if there was room for each grade only had a certain number of spots and you could fall out of them as easily as climb them.

There were only ever twenty angels, which was quite a few when their entire core was perhaps one-hundred seren. Above that were ten archangels, five virtues, and three seraphs. The seraphs ran everything, and made sure that everyone did what they were supposed to do and that no one was out of line. They nearly never changed. The virtues didn't either, and they handled who did what and if you got work. Archangels ran the day to day life and they changed now and then and angels were always rising and falling. Adam had been an angel briefly. They were archangel yes-men, gofers. An archangel told you to do something and you did, without hesitation. If you were below the angel grade all you had to do was follow, but without the added amounts of responsibility. Adam hadn't liked being an angel and knew there was no point trying to climb the grade.

But when an archangel walked past you straightened. They were your task masters and sergeants and kept the normals in line. They nodded at Adam as they walked down the other way. They'd gotten five paces past when he heard them stop walking. "Hey, stick," and Adam cringed. When were they going to drop the stick thing? Seriously. He was the only amid the templars, the dark skin/golden eyes combo showed up rarely, even rarer than in other seren. But still they didn't call anyone else by their slang, not even Gabriel who was a trunk in every sense of the word and the only one at that. Probably because he was a virtue. Damnit. Maybe there were benefits to climbing the angel-grade.

He turned around, "_Sen'in_?" he asked politely. You weren't rude to anyone who'd actually made it onto the angel-grade.

"Azrael is looking for you."

"… What?" what did a _virtue_ want with him? This was either very bad, or not so terrible. There was no such thing as 'good' when a virtue wanted to see you.

"Azrael's looking for you. Breakfast's over, get," he shooed Adam away and he frowned. Though it was true. He'd been headed for the yard outside for morning practice. But now…

Adam turned on a heel and headed for the offices of the virtues. Finding Azrael's was easy and he knocked. "Ja."

He swallowed and pushed the door open. Azrael was not what most people expected from a virtue. The other virtues were all icy and hard, their duties pounding them into a sort of neutral sort of coolness. Azrael was not. She was all flame and the only templar with hair the color of copper wire and freckles. Like all templars her eyes were golden, but only by one and a half. One of her eyes' iris was seemingly cut in half by a shade of green jasper making it look almost white. It… made her hard to look at directly honestly. "_Sen'en_, I heard you wanted to see me?"

She looked up and he looked away. Her eyes were startling and not in such a good way. "Ah, Adam," she said, well at least she didn't call him a stick. "Did an archangel send you?"

"Ja-_sen'en_," he also nodded.

"Good, before you got caught up in the morning. Come, come, and close the door, there's a draft," Adam didn't know what she meant by that. Maybe because it was almost _unpleasantly _warm in here. Azrael didn't seem to mind. He closed the door and moved closer. "You've been with us three years, right Adam?"

"Ja-_sen'en_," he nodded.

"I've heard good things about you. You made it onto the angel-grade last year."

"Ja-_sen'en_, I did."

"Why'd you fall off?"

"Not what I wanted sen'en," he said truthfully.

"Crowley didn't scare you off did he?"

"No-_sen'en_."

"Ja… well it's unusual is all. Three years and you made angel-grade and then four months later you drop off. I know some templars who have been here ten years and still trying to make angel-grade. And yet you just… threw it away. No ambition?"

He made a face, "It isn't that sen'en. I just… am not a good leader," well at least it was the truth, though it made him sound like a _kento_. Oh hadn't he been called that and _heen_ up and down when he'd first arrived and had still insisted on A'dame.

She frowned slightly. "I see. Well, you can't force anyone onto the angel-grade, though I think you'd be a good fit. Too clever for just field work, I suppose…" Adam had yet to be tested on the field alone. He just… couldn't commit. Killing a seren was just beyond what he could do it seemed. "You're going on assignment."

"Ja?"

"Ja _kessy. _We got a report from the commander about a rouge in Agartha. Causing trouble, stirring up _hess_ in the plantations around there. I'm sending you to Agartha to handle it. Understood?"

"Ja-_sen'en_," he nodded.

"Eve will be sent to shadow you," Adam swallowed at her look. It seemed his inability to follow through hadn't gone unnoticed. There was no use for a _besskin_ who couldn't do their job properly. "But this is _your_job. She's just going to keeping an eye on you. Got it?"

"Ja-_sen'en."_

_"_Good! Find Eve, tell her what's going on and then meet at the dispatch bay. A commander and your transport will be waiting for you."

"Ja-_sen'en._"

"Dismissed," and she waved him off. He did an about face and left without saying anything else. Out of Azrael's office the air was fresh and cold and he gulped it down once the door was between him and the virtue. Damn it all. He wouldn't be able to get out of not killing this time. This time… he'd have to do it. He'd have to kill another seren.

* * *

**besskin- **a highly skilled seren trained to hunt/kill people or run away slaves

**gerk**- something imaginary or fanciful, also the term for an imaginary friend or used to describe crazy/schizo people

**heen-** follower, someone who licks someone else's ass

**hensen- **deragative term for a proeathan used by seren. Also a term used for proeathans who are not their masters. Not something you would call to a proeathan's face ever

**hess- **a generic pronoun slur like 'a shit' or 'a fuck', ve-hess is 'little shit' or 'little fuck'

**hess- **generic slur meaning 'shit' or 'fuck'

**ja- **yes/indeed/agreement/uh/wow/like it is sort of a 'yes/placeholder' word with lots of nuiance that would take me too long to explain.

**kento- **deragatory seren word for someone who is slow or mentally challenged

**kesswit-** deragatory term for a keswikk, means something like 'one who tortures their family**'**

**kessy- **sort of like an addition to a 'yes'. Like 'yeah that's what I said' but not rude. Just a way to alter 'ja'

**keswikk-** a slave guard

**kisbit- **deragatory term for a seren woma, similar to 'cunt'

**ko- **generic semi formal seren greeting

**lhetzin- **moron/idiot, can be used endearingly

**long house- **where keswikk live/sleep

**lovnvo**- traitor, means something like 'twisted soul'

**Noko ja, [name] ve-hessla**- I hate everything, [name] you little shit

**proeathan- **those who came before

**sen'en/sen'in- **ma'am/sir

**seren- **early man

**stem- **slang term used by seren to describe frail/fragile looking pale skinned seren

**stick- **slang term used by seren to describe dark skined, tall, thin limbed, seren.

**swasu- **child/baby, deragatory

**teiemplarai- **proeathan word for seren with golden eyes and a 6th sense

**trunk- **slang term used by seren to describe seren of any color that are both tall and broad


	19. The First III

Yes, I'm back, sorry for the interruption. Here we go.

glossery at the bottom

* * *

00000 Agartha

Agartha was another big city. Not like Atlantis, there were no cities on Earth like Atlantis, but it was nothing to scoff at either. Transport set them down and Adam and Eve disembarked onto a landing pad. Their commander didn't come with them. Instead they stood at the top of the stairs looking down at them as they got off. Commanders were proeathan, and interfered in templar business only when they were on the field or with the seraphs. Otherwise the templars were totally self governed. Commanders made sure nothing happened during a mission and that in case the locals got uneasy were there to claim the _besskin_ as their property.

Adam looked back at their commander briefly as he stepped down onto the tarmac, but they'd already turned away. Unless something went wrong they wouldn't see or speak to their commander until they were finished. The transport's door closed in silence and the routers started up again, taking off.

"Ready to work?" Eve asked him, drawing his attention back to the point.

He looks down at her. She was here to watch him, make him commit. Three years and he has no record. Eve had been doing this twice as long, she told him she just stopped keeping track; easier that way. Made you feel like you weren't doing something totally terrible, because they all knew. None of them pretended they weren't in the business of killing their own people. Most of them just grew numb to it, or tried to act like they weren't affected. You couldn't show you were, _besskin_ were nothing if not professional.

Adam just wasn't up to standard. There weren't many others who'd come since he'd shown up, all of them un the time limit to prove themselves. Adam should be able to be sent out into the field alone by now. But he wasn't. He was still unproven and it grated at him like a rash. He had to prove himself this time. He wouldn't get many more chances.

"Ja," Adam said with a short nod, "let's work."

—

Whoever the rogue was they clearly thought they edge better than they really were. They left a trail behind them wherever they went like dropped bread crumbs. But then templars were uniquely suited to hunt other people, seren or proeathan, it didn't matter.

Normal proeathans, while having the sixth sense, didn't normally use it, not the way it _could_ be used. Everyone trained their sixth sense to do something different, to do what it needed to do. Some used it to pick out the right answers on a test, others to determine who was lying, others to tell who were thieves or to know when your siblings were about to jump on you or the kids were awake when they _should_ be seeing. There were super powerful proeathans with epic abilities that nearly defied explanation like levitation or mind reading or predicting the future. But each proeathan only used their sixth sense for what they needed to do in their day to day life thus while all proeathans had the capability for much more most didn't go past empathy for what they needed on a day to day.

Adam knew there were devices that could enhance the sixth sense and make it stronger, more permanent. Sticking if you would. He'd seen their commanders with them, strange, golden, spheres with deep etches in it. He didn't know what they did but he knew they enhanced the sixth sense.

There were no devices like that for seren. Instead templars honed their sixth sense to a perfect knife's edge and to the fullest capacity that their 'limited' sixth sense allowed them. Templars needed their sixth sense for a very specific skill and did something proeathan couldn't. All other proeathan senses were linked to their minds. Everything about their sixth sense was cerebral, something they knew with their minds. Seren were different. Their sixth sense was connected to their eyes and physically altered the way they saw the world. No proeathan had been documented being able to do what templars could do, even ones who had tried.

This sight based extra sense made templars _besskin_: hunters. They were like scent hounds and once they found the right trail it was nearly impossible to shake them or to escape. This rogue had made the mistake of letting himself be known, and for that he would be silenced and why Adam would track him across the city and beyond. He would not lose this rogue. He would get this seren. He would prove himself this time. If it was the last thing he did, he would prove himself.

—

The slums of Agartha was largely empty. It was a rich city and there were few homeless or poor. Even the poor proeathans could afford a seren slave and enjoyed a fair amount of luxury. But it didn't mean there were no homeless, no vagabonds or those who'd fallen off track. They huddled out of the wind that swept through Agartha constantly off the big lake to the north that gave the city a perpetual chill.

Adam saw Eve ahead of him by about two blocks. She was just walking though he knew she was watching. She was watching him in particular. He knew she had little interest in this hunt. Adam was to hunt the seren and she was there to make sure he did it right and if he couldn't she'd kill the seren for him. He wondered what would happen if he didn't do it this time. What would happen to him? Would they send him away? Would they kill him? Would they shun him? He'd never heard of a templar who hadn't proved their worth. He had to. For himself: he had to.

If one were to look at him they'd see his eyes glowing in gold. The world around him shimmered in gray starlight, colors stark and contrasting against the gray of the world. The rogue had tried to give him the slip here in the lower levels of the city where only the workers and slaves moved about, unseen by the majority of the population who were happy to pretend that their beautiful city wasn't built on the backs and at the toil of seren.

He shook the thought from his head. Crowley had clearly been a bad influence during his brief stint as an angel. It was clear to anyone that the archangel wasn't the most fond of the system, the angel-grade, the commanders, the way that even though they work no marks of slaves they were still treated as such. Adam remembered learning to get used to the lack of the second skin feeling around his throat and wrists of his collars he'd worn since he was a small child. It had taken him a while.

No time for that of Crowley or thoughts of other templars. He'd found his trail in the upper levels of the city but had lost it in a switch back here in the lower levels where roads weren't straight and twisted and turned upon one another like snakes seeking to eat one another. All he was looking for a flash of color, not Eve's teal, but a golden flash like templar eyes. He knew it was here. He just had to find... it.

Adam came to a stop abruptly his head twisting to look when he saw a glimmer. Golden. Like the bloodhound he was he turned and headed for the glimmer. It was just the smallest spark, almost unseen down a side street. He went after it and hit a wall. "Ja, _lhetzin_," Eve called from behind him a few moments later when she noticed he was gone. "There's nothing here."

"There is," Adam said, his eyes seeking. He could still see the little glimmer of gold. He crouched down next to it and pressed his finger against it.

Eve sighed dramatically from the alley's entrance. "_Kento_," she muttered.

"_Kisbit_," he called back not missing a beat.

"At least I'm not tracking _gerk_," she growled at him.

He rolled his eyes and ignored her. He _picked up_ the trace up before he realized that no… it wasn't what he was looking for. But it _looked_ like it. "What is this?" he asked, turning on the balls of his feet and letting his eyes slide back into normal vision. The world swam into color.

"What is what?"

"This. It looks like trace," he said.

"I don't see anything," she huffed and folded her arms across her chest in the universal 'I'm unamused, man' look.

"You don't? I do," he shifted back. The trace was _still_ there. Out of the sixth sight it was nothing, a scrap of dirt.

"You're also a stick templar. Maybe it messed with your wiring." He scowled at her. "Sixth sight's all _hess_, can't commit, maybe you're not cut out?" she shrugged a little, faking not caring.

His scowl deepened, "There's nothing wrong with me," he growled at her.

"_Clearly_," she said. Then she turned and left. "Do something interesting A'dame," and Adam twitched. She'd _never_ called him that. Even when he'd first started, when she'd first _met_ him, she'd always called him Adam. A hot feeling surged through his body and he stormed down the alley and out back into the main street and started to search again.

He left Eve behind but knew she'd follow, she wouldn't lose his teal trail. She was too good. But he didn't want to see her anymore. Damn her and damn the templars who thought he was weak. He was _not _**_weak_**.

Adam walked nearly an hour. Looking. But he found nothing and the longer he looked the more frustrated he became. As he was walking another seren bumped into him. Adam glared at them and they froze like a animal caught in headlamps. All he wanted to do was just find the damn rogue! Why was this so hard?

He blinked in surprise when all the sudden the sere pointed, "I saw him go that way," they said, voice shaking a little.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"T-the rogue," he swallowed, trembling in front of him.

Adam looked them over briefly before heading that way. What the _hell_ had just happened? He couldn't think about it. Couldn't dwell. He _needed_ to find his target and kill them. He walked and… found the trail. Adam jogged to keep up with it, feeling his heart accelerate a bit in anticipation. He was familiar to this feeling, but never like this. This time it was viscous and thick in his blood as he followed the trail of gold.

He came to a door, it didn't look very sturdy. He pushed it open and it led into a room. His target glowed like a beacon inside. He was sitting on the floor, a younger man, barely more than a boy, nearby. They turned and looked at Adam. "Who's there?" they demanded, voice sharp.

"Nobody," Adam said and reached into a hidden pocket and grabbed the hilt of his knife. With a press of a button the blade shot out of the innocuous hilt, into a knife twice the length of the hilt.

"_Sen'sin_?" the younger man asked and grabbed onto the rogue's arm even as he got to his feet.

"_Lobnvo,_" the rogue growled.

Adam said nothing, just lunged and the fight was painfully short and brutal. The rogue had nearly no training and Adam slammed him to the floor. They cried out as Adam raised his knife and he glared hot at the younger man. "_teimplarai_," he said looking at the barely-not-a-boy. They were staring at Adam, totally terrified, his golden eyes wide and afraid.

"Get off. They're mine!" the rogue yelled and bucked. Adam hit him in the face with his free hand as hard as he could. The man blinked, eyes rolling in a daze.

"Adam?" he looked over his shoulder. Eve was standing in the doorway looking in. "Found him," she seemed surprised.

"I did," he said, voice sort of hollow. Then he looked at the boy, "And one of us," he said looking at them.

"Finish it," she ordered. "Don't make me clean your mess."

Adam looked down at the rogue who was starting to come around, then at the knife in his hand. He hesitated and the rogue regained enough to hit him and they were wrestling. Adam lost his knife as he was tackled into the ground. He felt a fist connect with his ribs and then he was fighting back. Like before once Adam was in the game he was _in_ the game. He threw the rogue to the ground, grabbed his knife and pressed it to the rogue's throat. They swallowed and looked up at him, silently pleading.

"I am _teimplarai_," he whispered to himself and sliced the man's neck open, digging the blade in deep.

A hand rested on his shoulder and he jerked. It was Eve. "You did it," she said gently. She helped him to his feet and he sort of swayed. "How do you feel?"

His reply was to take three steps away from her and vomit onto the floor.

* * *

**besskin- **a highly skilled seren trained to hunt/kill people or run away slaves

**gerk**- something imaginary or fanciful, also the term for an imaginary friend or used to describe crazy/schizo people

**heen-** follower, someone who licks someone else's ass

**hensen- **deragative term for a proeathan used by seren. Also a term used for proeathans who are not their masters. Not something you would call to a proeathan's face ever

**hess- **a generic pronoun slur like 'a shit' or 'a fuck', ve-hess is 'little shit' or 'little fuck'

**hess- **generic slur meaning 'shit' or 'fuck'

**ja- **yes/indeed/agreement/uh/wow/like it is sort of a 'yes/placeholder' word with lots of nuiance that would take me too long to explain.

**kento- **deragatory seren word for someone who is slow or mentally challenged

**kesswit-** deragatory term for a keswikk, means something like 'one who tortures their family**'**

**kessy- **sort of like an addition to a 'yes'. Like 'yeah that's what I said' but not rude. Just a way to alter 'ja'

**keswikk-** a slave guard

**kisbit- **deragatory term for a seren woma, similar to 'cunt'

**ko- **generic semi formal seren greeting

**lhetzin- **moron/idiot, can be used endearingly

**long house- **where keswikk live/sleep

**lovnvo**- traitor, means something like 'twisted soul'

**Noko ja, [name] ve-hessla**- I hate everything, [name] you little shit

**proeathan- **those who came before

**sen'en/sen'in- **ma'am/sir

**seren- **early man

**stem- **slang term used by seren to describe frail/fragile looking pale skinned seren

**stick- **slang term used by seren to describe dark skined, tall, thin limbed, seren.

**swasu- **child/baby, deragatory

**teiemplarai- **proeathan word for seren with golden eyes and a 6th sense

**trunk- **slang term used by seren to describe seren of any color that are both tall and broad


	20. The Genius IV

2030, Hua Shan

Rebecca started when the Animus' stream of data stopped abruptly and she recognized a forced desynce. This wasn't her doing anything though. She looked at Shaun who'd been trying to keep up the past few days, trying to piece together all the raw data the Animus was collecting about the world from that time. For once his expertise was flawed and incomplete and they were practically running blind as far as events went and as it was they were just jumping around Adam's genetic sequence hoping to strike gold, not knowing how far forward they had to go, knowing if they went too far in age they could miss whatever event they were looking for. It was like shooting a target, you knew was there, in the dark, upside down, and the gun had a ridiculous recoil.

There was still two hours left in this session. They did them in short sessions, every other day, to give Duncan a break. They'd learned from past mistakes, there were no all day sessions every day like there had been with Desmond. The Animus kicked in the desynce session at the timer no matter what Duncan was doing. But the timer was still going and Rebecca hadn't engaged the desynce. Duncan hadn't even died or anything, though right now as Adam it was rather hard to since unlike Desmond's other ancestors it seemed he didn't attract guards like flies to shit. But if she or the Animus weren't doing it than that meant Duncan was forcing the desynce. Why would he do that?

Then Duncan woke with a start. "Duncan?" Rebecca asked. He sat up and lurched out of the chair without a word. "Duncan," she called when he stumbled out of the room. She looked at Shaun a shot of fear spiking down into her gut. "What if-

"It's nothing," Shaun shot it down before she could even worry. "C'mon," he grabbed her hand and dragged her from the room and followed Duncan out.

They found him in the hall a good ten feet away on his hands and knees. Clearly he'd been trying to make it outside or somewhere else but hadn't made it. There was vomit on the floor. "Duncan," Rebecca shook Shaun's hand off and went to him. "What happened?"

He was trembling and after a moment wretched again. Nothing came up this time and he sat back on his thighs looking pale. Duncan wiped his mouth before saying, "I've never killed anyone before," he said.

"Oh Duncan," and she hugged him. He leaned against her.

"Well you didn't," Shaun said, "Not really. It was Adam, not you."

"Felt like it," Duncan said, his voice strangely soft.

"C'mon D, we'll clean this up, lets let you lay down somewhere," and Rebecca helped the teenager to his feet. He didn't wobble but he _did_ look unsteady. "And maybe brush your teeth?" she asked.

"Yeah. That was… gross," he looked down at the mess he'd made on the temple floor.

"Don't worry about that. We'll clean it up. Shaun-

"Hey why do I have to d-" Rebecca just sent him a look. "Fine," sometimes there were definite benefits to being married. Especially to a guy like Shaun.

"Thank you," she said and gave him a kiss on the cheek before leading Duncan away.

"Is that it for today?" Duncan asked as they left the scene where he'd gotten sick.

"Yeah we'll call it quits for today," Rebecca squeezed Duncan's shoulder.

"Anny B-"

"Yeah?"

"The Animus, it lets you relive any memory right? Every one?"

"Yeap. We aren't doing that though, too time consuming and we want you in there as little as possible."

"Oh. How do you know it's not Eve?" he asked.

"Hmm?"

"Like how do you know Adam's the important one?"

"We don't, it's just a guess. Also in general you have an easier time syncing into your same sex. Sixty thousand years back you need all the help you can get. As it is it's a miracle my language algorithm is still functioning. Though I'm sure you saw that sometimes he can't translate."

Duncan nodded, "I could relive _any_ of my ancestors' memories, right? Like if I wanted I could relive papa and nana meeting or something?"

Rebecca laughed, "Yeah, you could do that I suppose." Then they made it to the bathroom and Duncan went to brush his teeth. "We're going to worry about Adam for now though," she said.

"Yeah," he agreed around his toothbrush.


	21. The Child III

This was such… an incredibly stupid and insane idea. But it was all Duncan could think to do. He wanted to know. He _needed_ to know. Just because the others thought he was a kid didn't mean he was stupid. He knew he wasn't stupid. He'd grown up fast and hard and he _knew_ they weren't telling him some things. They were keeping things from him.

All he had to do was wait for Anny B and Shaun to go to sleep. That was saying something since he didn't think he'd ever seen Anny B sleep but Shaun did eventually drag her to bed. Duncan lay on his bed until he heard the door dow the hall open and then close again and he rolled silently out of bed. He edged the door open and looked down the hall in both directions. Felix was sleeping too, and so was papa and nana. He knew not everyone was asleep, there was always someone awake, to make sure they didn't come, whoever _they_ were.

Duncan padded down the hall towards the Animus room, her bare feet silent on the temple floor, passing where he'd lost his lunch earlier that day. Someone was listening to the radio in the main foyer. A guard. He slipped past them in the dark and down into the basement, only turning on the light when he'd closed the door behind him, so they wouldn't see.

The Animus was sleeping when he walked up to it and then after a moment of hesitation he sat down at Anny B's computer terminal and booted it up. The Animus whirled. She had a password on her computer and he groaned. Of course and knowing her it was probably something ridiculous. Though he couldn't remember her ever typing one in. His mouth went thin a moment trying to think of what her password could be.

He ended up just trying a bunch of generic ones for the hell of it. A hint popped up 'clickable'. Which made no sense to him. "Uh…" he thumped back in the chair with a frown. He wasn't some wiz kid like his Anny B that was for sure no matter how smart he was. What the hell did a hint like that even _mean_? Clickable. What was clickable?

Buttons were clickable.

Except that wasn't the password.

So were mice.

No.

He didn't know what _else_ could possibly be clickable. With a groan he thumped his head on the table a few times. If this was how normal people felt all the time no wonder people got angry when he was a smart ass and a know it all. He was getting taken to school by an old lady and she wasn't _even here_. He frowned at the monitor and moved the mouse around the screen his finger clicking blindly, he didn't even realize he was doing it, it was just reaction.

The pointer ended up on the 'submit' button and not paying attention he clicked it. Duncan blinked when when the welcome screen came up.

'Clickable.'

God damn. One of the few things a hacker would do, actually just try to get in without a password when a box was given. Anny B was now hovering near the top of his awesome people list.

He honestly didn't know what he was really doing. Like he _sort_ of did, he knew the basics, that would do. He also knew that he could create an interface inside the Animus once he was in it. He just had to set it up first from the outside then he could search through his own DNA at will instead of just being flung so far back in time it actually sort of hurt to exist, the Animus straining to properly read the markers on his genes for that far back. He didn't tell Anny B that though, that it hurt. She'd never let him near it again and he knew that'd make everyone fight. Duncan hated when they fought. This was the hard part, once inside the animus he could navigate it fairly easily.

Quickly he went through the interface and put things where they needed to be and then set the timer that would kick him out in three hours. Three hours was enough time to do what he wanted to do as well as get some sleep. Once it was set up he got up and laid back in the Animus, pressing the start up button and closed his eyes.

The white room swam into his vision. Okay, good. He looked around the nebulous white clouds. The Animus followed instructions and instead of putting him in Adam's body brought up the interface. He liked the interface, it was a long twisted sort of comb structure, each little node a person and it was so long he couldn't see the end of it though it started right in front of him. The node in front was red, that was him, all the rest were white. He picked out one directly behind his node and after a moment the Animus projected an image of his ancestor. Well, not ancestor. Just his father.

There were no pictures of his parents wherever they lived. He'd never seen them, but everyone said he looked like Desmond, his father. With the projction of him in front of Duncan he had to agree. He was taller than Duncan, but then he was still growing, and yeah he could see it. They looked alike, related, though Desmond looked so tired, so old. It was strange. Hadn't he only been like twenty-five when he'd died?

He clicked the other node and swallowed down his emotions when the representation of Desmond vanished, replaced by a woman, his mother. He didn't even know his mother's name. None of them talked about her, though sometimes Anny B would say something about her and get really sad and Duncan wouldn't bring it up again. Compared to his father, or even him, she was short with blonde hair and bright, curious, blue eyes that more than his father made him feel like he was looking into a mirror. She looked worried though, despite her eyes, or maybe sad.

Duncan frowned and sat on the 'floor' of the Animus, expanding one of the nodes to find a sequence. He didn't want to walk through their life, he just wanted to watch, like it happened sometimes, imporant parts of a memory that had to go an _exact_ certain way and control was wrestled from him and he got to watch it like a movie. He found one of his mother's memories and opened it wide so that the white room filled with moonlight, a large, half destroyed, villa behind her, and a darkened country side expanding out in front of her beyond a fountain lit by street lights. Duncan was sitting nearby on a street lamp, getting a bird's eye view of the scene.

She was just standing there, arms folded, watching the country-side. He wondered what she was doing but didn't feel comfortable diving into his own mother's memories fully. There was nothing for it and he just watched. Five minutes went by, then ten minutes, then half an hour.

Finally a noise and he turned when she did at the sound of feet on the gravel. His mother smiled at Desmond, "What're you doing up?" she asked him.

Desmond sighed, "Couldn't sleep," he admitted.

She frowned, "I'm sorry," she said.

"It's okay," he shrugged, "For a good cause, right?" he smiled at her.

"The best," she said.

"You want me to take watch?" he asked.

She looked at him quickly, "What? No, it's fine. You should try to get some sleep. You must be tired."

"You realize I spend most of the day laying down right?" he asked.

"It exhausts your mind," she said. "Rebecca might have made the Animus but she doesn't know what it…" she cut off, swallowed a breath and then continued, "what it does to people, to their minds. It's important that you rest."

"You too," he said.

"Hmm?"

"You need to rest too. I never see you sleeping."

"I'm fine. I've never been a heavy sleeper and I just… I nap," she said awkwardly.

He chuckled, "Power nap your way through it then?"

"Something like that yeah," she nudged him playfully and Duncan sighed with a grin. According to TV shows and movies most kids thought their parents flirting was gross or weird. Duncan thought it was really nice, to see them interact, to see them _alive_, since they were both gone. Though he understood, watching Shaun and Anny B flirt made him want to gag sometimes because even _he_ had limits. But this… this was like watching a movie. He was seperated from it.

They stood there for a while, not talking but Duncan could feel all the things they weren't saying, it made him smile. When he didn't think about it like they were his _parents_ he sort of felt like a friend watching from afar. "Well this is riviting," Desmond said after a while.

She laughed, "Guard duty's pretty boring," she agreed.

"I figured with you you'd have something entertaining to do out here," he said.

"Well I have a lot on my mind. I walk down to the front of the villa too, to check our front and back, so we aren't snuck up on. Does that count?"

He snorted, "No."

"Well excuse me," she huffed.

"I think you're lying."

"E-excuse me?" she stammered.

"Down in the catacombs you said you knew how to have fun," catacombs? What catacombs? "I think you're lying," he said smirking down at her.

"Says the man who spends most of his day sleeping," she said right back with a smart look.

"Ow."

"You brought that on yourself."

"Heh, yeah, I guess I did," he agreed with a slight laugh. "Though really there should be something to do out here? I mean, what do you want?"

"What?" she asked, confused.

"I said, what do you want? Out of all this?"

"Desmond-

"What?" he asked.

She sighed and looked away from him a moment, holding onto his elbows. "I don't know," she said, looking at him again. "I thought I knew what I wanted, I don't anymore."

"What did you want then?" She opened her mouth, no words came out, she closed it again. Desmond cocked his head at her. "Lucy?" he asked and Duncan actually gave a sort of strangled cry. No one told him his mother's name, it was the first time he'd ever heard her name and he couldn't stop smiling because now not only did he have a face for his father but he had a name _and_ and a face for his mother.

"I wanted to be appreciated," she said. "I guess I still do but…"

"But? Why's there a but in there? You are appreciated," Desmond told her. "_I_ appreciate you. You've done so much for me."

"Desmond-

"You have. You helped me in Abstergo, helped get me out and now all this," he waved his hand to take in the countryside. "I've never been to Italy. Not for real," he admitted and grabbed her hand, "Why _wouldn't_ someone appreciate you?" he asked.

Lucy stared at him looking ruined. Duncan had both his hands pressed over his mouth. He didn't want something bad to happen, like for Lucy to cry. He would actually have to leave the memory if that happened. He couldn't even handle when Anny B just looked upset, girls crying was literally something he couldn't deal with. "Thank you," she said softly. "I'm glad someone does."

Desmond grinned, "You wanted to be appreciated, you are, what next?"

She laughed helplessly, "I don't know," she confessed.

"Tell me," Desmond said. "Anything you want, you can tell me," he turned and pointed at the sky. The moon was a a waxing cresent, plump, but not full. "You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down," that made Lucy giggle. "What?" he asked smiling at her.

"Did you just quote It's a Wonderful Life at me?" she giggled.

"Yes, because classic movies are great," Desmond said. "I could have quoted Episode Five to you if you wanted but I don't think it would have been as poignant."

Lucy sighed, though was smiling at him anyway. "You're too much," she told him.

"So I'm just enough then?" he said. "Unless you _did_ want me to quote Episode Five to you? I can do that if you want."

"Does it have to do with uh… tontons?" Lucy asked awkwardly, clearly not into whatever movie they were talking about as much as Desmond. Duncan had no idea. He didn't know what It's a Wonderful Life or Episode Five was, he made a note to ask Anny B to let him watch them. He was sure it'd be fine.

Desmond snorted, "Tauntaun," he said.

"That's what I said," she huffed.

"No you said tonton."

"Does it matter? Really?"

He chuckled, "I guess not. And no it doesn't have to do with tauntauns, unless you _want_ me to kill something for you to sleep in," and she made a face. "I'm _joking_,_" _he assured her.

"It was a really bad joke."

"They can't all be winners."

"Color me unimpressed than," she said, putting her hands on her hips.

"Still want me to actually quote Episode Five?" he asked.

"If you're going to I won't stop you," she said with a sort of tone he'd heard Anny B use with Shaun, the sort where she'd resigned herself to whatever stupidity he decided to do. He wondered if all women who were in love learned how to do that. She squeaked in surprise when Desmond suddenly grabbed both her hands with his own and pulled her closer to him, facing each other, looking down at her and for a long moment it was as though his words were at the tip of his tongue.

Then, like he remebered how to speak he said, "I love you."

There was a heart beat of silence, "I know," Lucy said and Duncan had to slap his hands over his eyes because while he didn't mind watching his parents flirt watching them kiss/make out was an entirely different thing he didn't want to deal with or inflict upon his fragile little psyche. He needed to go to a different memory, preferably one without them being disgusting in it. Uhg. They were dead seventeen years and he was still suffering second hand embaressment from them. Stupid parents.


	22. The First IV

00000, xx'xx

Adam heard the general sound of sympathy when his opponent took a crack across the face by his weapon and sprawled down to the ground with a thud. Panting Adam stood over the other archangel, Samael, sweat stood out stark on Adam's near pitch black skin as he tried to catch his breath. Samael hadn't been an easy fight. He was perfect in his fighting and the brother of the virtue Azrael it was expected of him to be good. He was. Adam was just better. From the ground Samael groaned.

"_Noko ja, Adam ve-hessla_," he moaned touching his side. Adam chuckled and reached a hand down to him.

"Good fight," he said. Samael eyed his hand before grabbing it and Adam yanked the blond up to his feet.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side," Samael rubbed his face in a slightly pained manner.

"Adam doesn't have a bad side," Lazarus called from the sideline. Some of the templars watching laughed.

"Could'a fooled me," and Samael walked off the ring.

"Who's next?" Adam asked. No one stepped forward. "Oh c'mon," he sighed. Though this seemed to always happen. No one wanted to fight him. He was an archangel now, totally by accident it seemed, and few wanted to test an archangel other than another archangel. Of the templars gathered around he'd already faced off against the other archangels. "Really? No one?" he signed.

"Let someone else have a chance at winning Adam," Crowley crowed all swathed in his black clothes, looking like a shadow.

"You're all _swasus_," Adam declared, unimpressed. He did step from the ring though. He set his pole arm butt down and joined the sidelines. Two templars not on the angel grade stepped forward to spar. Adam stood next to Eve who didn't look at him. "What'd you think?" he asked her.

"Good, as always," she still wasn't looking at him. "As expected of an archangel," she almost sounded bitter. It had been almost five years since their last mission together, the one where Adam had finally committed and slain his first seren. After that he hadn't needed to be paired with anyone. Eve was still his friend, but it seemed in the last handful of months she'd been growing distant.

He thought she'd be happy for him. Archangel and he'd finally grown confident enough to talk to Lilith on a more romantic basis. They'd been together two years, Lilith was pregnant. Not terribly common, but not rare either. The virtue Azrael had had a child as well, though no one knew who the father was, and neither were telling. Templars did sometimes have children with one another, though it was uncommon. They gained new members from the outside world faster than Templars had children and they got perhaps two or three new recruits a year.

But Eve hadn't been happy when Lilith had told her. They weren't talking now. Adam wasn't sure why. Eve and Lilith had been best friends and now when they were in the same room together it was like they were going to start fighting. She'd become especially icy to Adam in the past few months since she learned of it. Adam didn't know what he'd done wrong and everyone just said to ignore it. People like Eve, roots, were prone to their passions and perceived slights. Best to just let it pass over.

"You're good too," he reminded her. She'd made angel but dropped off shortly after her fight with Lilith. He wasn't sure if Lilith had demoted her, or if Eve didn't want to be on the same grade as Lilith. Adam just tried to stay out of their fighting. They were both important to him. Eve was the first templar he ever met, and Lilith was the woman he was in love with.

She gave him a look, finally, and then looked away again when one of the templars threw the other to the mat. "Not good enough apparently," she said softly and left his side. He intended to go after her but Samael was demanding a rematch. Just when he didn't want to fight. Adam tore his eyes away from Eve and went back into the ring with Samael.

—

***SYNC ERROR***

{ .anima\ \3.4.9}

fatal error: failed to reinitialize

fatal error: failed to reinitialize

fatal error: failed to reinitialize

***RESETING***

fatal error: failed to terminate

fatal error: failed to terminate

fatal error: failed to terminate

fatal error: failed to terminate

fatal error: failed to terminate

fatal error: failed to terminate

fatal error: failed to terminate

***RESETING***

Loading Firmware … Animus 4.03.13

source\

source\

Initializing …

Populating …

—

00000, xx xx'xxxx x xxxxxxx

Adam looked up at the great device. So much pain, so many dead friends. And for what? For this? But this. This would make it better. Right? This would help. It had to. It had to. The machine hummed without care and Adam looked away from it.

Eve stood next to him, a slight smile on her face. "_Heku_?" she asked him.

_"Nell ja uluku heer?"_

_"Adam uluku heer'n'sa. Jerra. Na kalassa, ihetzin na," _and she seemed amused by him. Of course. She always found him so amusing.

"_Né'ka mosomulammumsa,"_ he said, more than a little heart broken.

_"Né'bo mashali,"_ she said in a soft, fond, voice.

_"Né sen mocolocoo forl sofun ne geren do,"_ he swallowed hard.

She smiled at him and reached out as if to take his hand. "_Né'bo mas'shalima,_" and he took a deep breath.

_"Nel kecu na mamusa ja ser ne, bosuma,"_ he wanted to take her hand.

She laughed at him and smiled brightly, _"Adam, né'ke so'abrukal'shera. Kër abadusel na der né."_

He smiled at her slightly and nodded, looking away from her. He pulled the Apple from his pouch. It sang in his hand and Eve seemed all the brighter for it. _"Vesh-der, na-Adam mess."_ He raised his hand holding the Apple up high.

* * *

translation

Eve: "Well?"

Adam: "And this will make it end?"

Eve: "It never ends Adam. Not really. You know that, you idiot.

Adam: "I'm sorry."

Eve: "I know my love."

Adam: "I'd take it back if I could."

Eve: "I know, my love."

Adam: "Don't leave me when I do this."

Eve: "I'll always be with you Adam. Forever."

Adam: "Then here I go."

**besskin- **a highly skilled seren trained to hunt/kill people or run away slaves

**gerk**- something imaginary or fanciful, also the term for an imaginary friend or used to describe crazy/schizo people

**heen-** follower, someone who licks someone else's ass

**hensen- **deragative term for a proeathan used by seren. Also a term used for proeathans who are not their masters. Not something you would call to a proeathan's face ever

**hess- **a generic pronoun slur like 'a shit' or 'a fuck', ve-hess is 'little shit' or 'little fuck'

**hess- **generic slur meaning 'shit' or 'fuck'

**ja- **yes/indeed/agreement/uh/wow/like it is sort of a 'yes/placeholder' word with lots of nuiance that would take me too long to explain.

**kento- **deragatory seren word for someone who is slow or mentally challenged

**kesswit-** deragatory term for a keswikk, means something like 'one who tortures their family**'**

**kessy- **sort of like an addition to a 'yes'. Like 'yeah that's what I said' but not rude. Just a way to alter 'ja'

**keswikk-** a slave guard

**kisbit- **deragatory term for a seren woma, similar to 'cunt'

**ko- **generic semi formal seren greeting

**lhetzin- **moron/idiot, can be used endearingly

**long house- **where keswikk live/sleep

**lovnvo**- traitor, means something like 'twisted soul'

**Noko ja, [name] ve-hessla**- I hate everything, [name] you little shit

**proeathan- **those who came before

**sen'en/sen'in- **ma'am/sir

**seren- **early man

**stem- **slang term used by seren to describe frail/fragile looking pale skinned seren

**stick- **slang term used by seren to describe dark skined, tall, thin limbed, seren.

**swasu- **child/baby, deragatory

**teiemplarai- **proeathan word for seren with golden eyes and a 6th sense

**trunk- **slang term used by seren to describe seren of any color that are both tall and broad


	23. The Child IV

huh... thanks ff for deleting important parts of the story from last chapter because they might be links. If you need to see what all the little bits of the Animus code were you can go to AO3 or my blog to find the full version.

* * *

2030, Hua Shan

Like he was coming up for air Duncan gasped and sputtered when the Animus finally kicked him. His hands released the death grip they held on to the arms of the Animus and the next moment he was being grabbed. It took him a moment to realize it that Anny B was hugging him tightly to her chest.

"A-Anny B?" he asked carefully when h realized she was crying. He hugged her back since she seemed to need it. He looked over her shoulder at Shaun who was pale, his glasses low on his nose, eyes wide with fear and relief. "What happened?" he asked Shaun.

Shaun licked his lips and his mouth worked a second before he said, "Thought we lost you for a second," Shaun said.

"What? What are you talking about? What happened in there? One second I was in Ee'dn and then… wherever the world I was with… an Apple? What's an Apple?" he'd never heard of an Apple other than the food but he knew this was a thing that needed emphasis. He knew by the way Adam had thought about it.

"We don't know," Shaun said. "It glitched and we almost had you fall into the Black Room."

Duncan hesitated. He sort of didn't want to know what that was. But… "What's the Black Room?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," Anny B sniffed and finally pulled back from him. Her eyes were red but she wasn't crying anymore. She gently stroked the back of his head, "You're done in the Animus for a while. Okay?"

"Okay," he nodded slowly.

Shaun heaved himself out of the chair and helped Anny B up. "C'mon Bec, he's safe. Lets go get some tea, okay?"

"You're okay?" she asked Duncan.

"Yeah," he said, "I feel fine. I'm just confused," he frowned.

"We'll tell William no more Animus till we figure out what happened. You'll be okay if I take her to the kitchen?" Shaun asked.

"Yeah Shaun, I'm an adult," he refrained from rolling his eyes.

"Okay. I'd suggest taking a nap to give your mind a rest from all this."

"Whatever you say Shaun," Duncan said. Shaun nodded and then led Anny B out of the Animus room. Duncan got up as if to follow them, shutting down the Animus properly like Anny B had shown him after he'd asked her to show him because he liked learning how to do all sorts of things.

Duncan leaned around to see outside the door and knew they were far enough away. He closed the door and locked it before sitting at Anny B's computer and bringing up his meta data on his session. What had gone wrong?

He found the errors quickly. First failure move to the next memory, than failure to desync from the session. Then the strange memory, where the language algorithm had bit the dust, had loaded up. He looked at the memory file \tobaevent. What the hell was the toba event?

Duncan brought up the internet and entered his password to access the net and looked up just _what_ this toba event was. He spent about twenty minutes speed reading a scientific journal about it.

In short, it was the apocalypse.

Or a theorized apocalypse. No one could prove. Yet he'd just been there. Living it. Adam was connected to the toba event somehow, to the super volcano erupting. But how? What had he been doing with… With an Apple? What was an Apple anyway? Duncan didn't know.

He looked at the Animus, then at the door, then at the Animus again. He turned back to the terminal and brought up the Animus dialog boxes. He ran his personal specs that let him access the terminal from the inside. He kept the launcher well hidden amid old code labeled to his and Felix which were their names ( .anima and .anima respectively). He knew Anny B didn't touch the files, or Shaun. He wasn't sure why but he assumed they were synthetic Animus generations, to run the Animus like someone was really in there. They were clearly old though and hadn't been used in years. Maybe they were for previous versions of the Animus, since Duncan found no other files labeled like that. He didn't dwell too much on them.

He set the timer for one hour, that'd be probably how long Shaun could keep Anny B busy, and slid into the Animus. He closed his eyes and welcomed the White Room.


	24. The Savior and the Mother

Monteriggioni 2012

Sleep had always been one of Desmond's favorite things. It was the time where he could relax, and for a guy like Desmond, there wasn't always time to relax. He was always working, always moving, always on a great journey. His friends had always teased him that he could never keep still, or that the only time he wasn't ready to go on an adventure was when he was dead, or asleep.

That had been then. Now sleeping felt like dying. Desmond had trouble sleeping. Phantoms and dreams tortured him at night. He would get out of the Animus, run around Monteriggioni for a while, to remind himself how to run, how to jump, how to move his body in actual space and not just with his mind. Then he'd eat something and crawl into his sleeping bag by the statue of Altair's feet and try to sleep.

Sometimes, like now, he couldn't. Sleep was beyond him. His body felt too much, too big, his skin stretched over a soft body he wasn't used to. One that had a gut and flabby arms, a thicker waist and thighs and squishy cheeks covered in hair. It was infuriating to watch himself turn into this… well this fat ass! There wasn't a lot he could do about it though. He was in the Animus ten hours a day and the only thing to eat was either Rebecca's salads, or snacks and Italian food. Desmond sometimes chowed down on Rebecca's vegetarian munchies but he'd caught himself eating a pound of carrots last week and been grossed out by himself.

This bigger body was maddening to him. He'd always been a rather trim guy, always been the one where his friends would laugh and go 'Jeff! Jeff! Show Mark your guns!' or whatever name he was using at the time. Desmond was used to having less mass, and having it made him irritable, and made it hard to sleep.

He promised that if Shaun made one more fat joke he was going to punch the Brit. And break his glasses too. He was normally pretty chill, but the guy just bothered him something fierce sometimes. Maybe one day the Brit wouldn't see him as a burden. Desmond would believe it when it happened.

Desmond picked himself up from his sleeping bag after deciding he couldn't sleep and grabbed his hoodie. The sanctuary was quiet, all the machines off, the generator's normal quiet hum silenced. He walked out of the sanctuary and out into the rear courtyard.

"Desmond?" he turned at someone calling his name. Lucy was on the second floor balcony banister, looking down at him.

"How'd you get up there?" he asked, craning his head back to see her.

"I climbed. What are you doing awake?"

"Couldn't sleep," he shrugged. "Hold on," and not looking he grabbed onto the nearest hand hold. Ezio had climbed this house so much that Desmond could do it literally with his eyes closed.

"Desmond—" she huffed when he sat next to her, "you didn't have to," she told him.

"Nonsense, and miss out?" he asked her with a grin.

"I don't know what you think you're missing out on," she gave him a look.

Desmond leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. She turned around, clearly to scold him, but he just kissed her on the lips. "I'd miss out on that."

He huffed at him, "Desmond."

"What?" it was nearly a whine. "I spend all day in the Animus and then I work out and go to sleep. I don't even get a good night kiss or _anything!_" she laughed.

"You're right," and she kissed him again.

—

Rome 2012

Lucy stood on the sidelines and watched them take Clay away. Blood had been smeared all across the Animus room to the point there was little to no blood left in his body. She stood there, shaking slightly, wishing she'd done more.

Warren looked at her, face stern. For half a second it softened, but didn't stay like that. He couldn't be soft here, even for her. "Someone will come clean this up," he said. It was as good as she needed as a dismissal and she left quickly.

Lucy waited for the elevator impatiently, she wanted to get off this level as quickly as possible. Finally the doors opened and she got in and went down three floors to the residency floor. She got off and made her way to her quarters.

She'd just fitted the key into the door when someone came up next to her. She looked. "Hey," Daniel said and she breathed out a breath she only realized she'd been holding.

"Hello Daniel," she said, keeping the tremor from her voice, but only just.

"Heard about what happened up top."

"Word travels fast," Lucy said.

He shrugged, "You okay?" he asked.

She gave him a look. Daniel didn't know. Only Warren and Allen knew what she was. Better that way. "I don't know why I wouldn't be."

"Dead's still dead," Daniel said, "You ever seen a dead body before?"

She swallowed, "Once," she was looking over his shoulder, unable to meet is blue eyes. "My grandfather had an open casket."

"Beh," Daniel scoffed, "That's not for real. I meant like this."

"No," she lied. "First one."

"How you holding up?"

"I think I need to get some rest," she said and pushed her door open.

"Want a distraction?" Daniel asked as she went in.

She smiled a bit of an unkind, and pandering, "See you later Daniel," and she closed the door on him.

—

The Farm, 1997

Sweat dripped down and off the end of Desmond's nose. Dust came up in little clouds as he did push ups, his skinny ten-year-old arms trembling as he did so. Summer in South Dakota was hot and humid, especially in the valleys between the hills. The sweat made little pockmark puddles on the dirt ground under him, each droplet a tiny crater. He was being punished, for talking out of turn, and not doing as instructed. Three hundred push ups his teacher had said and if he stopped he had to start again.

The ground grew close before Desmond pushed it away. Five hundred and six, the two hundred and fifty-eighth in this set. Some other kid had come over and upturned him, laughed and Desmond had grabbed him and now that kid was getting medical treatment and Desmond was still doing push ups. Sweat slid down his skin, off the point of his chin and nose, the sun curved overhead middle in the horizon. The clouds that were out there were low and far away, meaning Desmond had no shade.

He could feel people watching him. Adults. He knew his dad was watching him, and his teacher. You beat a kid up and the head of the compound noticed. At least he noticed _something_. Not like William noticed anything else Desmond ever did unless he got in trouble. Also making sure no other kids came and messed with his punishment to make him start again. Desmond could take a lot, but he'd already been out here in this hot sun longer than he wanted to be. He wasn't starting over again.

Behind him he heard people come in on horses from the outlying field that surrounded the Farm. Patrol probably, and horses were quieter than cars, could transverse the wooded areas better too. He wanted to go riding when this stupid punishment was over, down to the creek and wash off all this sweat and dust.

All through this Desmond never lost count. Not once. He couldn't lose count. Not here. Not now. Two hundred and ninety-five now. His arms ached but he didn't complain and other than his huffing breath and the occasional grunt, he didn't make a sound.

"Three hundred," he announced to the air but didn't get out of the push up position. Instead he held it until someone told him to get up. He might have hated it with a passion but he was a good little soldier sometimes. He knew how to not get re-punished after just finishing one. At least pretend to be respectful.

An almost silence passed, Desmond heard William talking with someone else, but not what they were saying. "Get up Desmond," his father said. Desmond hopped to his feet and stood there as they approached him. He was still in just his pants from training morning training, but shirtless, and he could feel the dust from the Farm clinging to his skin from the sweat. "What did you learn from this?" William asked him when he and Desmond's instructor were closer. Desmond said nothing. "I asked you a question. What did you learn from this?"

Desmond mulled that over a moment before saying, "That I can do six hundred push ups-" William smacked him across the face, hard. He stumbled back.

"Don't be smart with me, son," William said in a hard tone. Desmond breathed deep, angry, breaths to get back under control. Don't let the cracks show. Don't let the weakness show. Don't let him win. "Now, what did you learn from this?"

"To do as told the first time," Desmond said, glaring at William.

"That's right. Without this training you're a liability, weak, useless; just like everyone else in the world. We are not those things," Desmond started reciting the speech in his head as his father talked. He'd been given it so much he knew it all and it never changed. His father never had any new words of wisdom to share. "Everyone outside our fence is weak in body and especially in mind. We are strong, to carry the burdens humanity doesn't want to face, because no one else will. But we are nothing if we do not listen. You answer to your instructor, who answers to me."

"And who do you answer to?" Desmond asked insubordinately. William hit him again for that, another open handed smack across the face.

"Don't interrupt when I'm talking, son," William said.

Desmond didn't listen to the rest. He was too angry. He knew it anyway. Knew William's little speech like the back of his hand. "Understand?" William finally asked him.

"Yes, sir," Desmond ground out between his teeth.

"Good. Now go clean up. You missed lunch and you're late for your academics." Desmond turned away from his father and his instructor and went towards the empty house he lived in, one that used to have people in it.

—

Saddlebunch Ranch, 1997

It was sort of an unapologetic fact that Karen was the worst person to play hide-and-go-seek with. Or maybe the best. It was hard to decide. Karen loved to laugh and if you passed by her spot and didn't see her she'd laugh and you'd find her even if you weren't looking for her. She was also terrible when it came to being 'it' and short games would last hours because Karen was such a terrible seeker.

That was what Lucy thought about as she followed after Karen while they walked their ponies down the endless street between soy bean and corn fields. Karen had a wide smile that Lucy offered back only in reservation. Lucy's pony, a mare named Chickadee, bumped up against Lucy's side and nickered. Something was upsetting her.

Lucy stopped on the side of the road. "Karen," she said, holding onto Chickadee's bridle to calm her. It wasn't doing much good. But she knew Chickadee and Sunflower were trained special, to make sure you _knew_ before you knew, when something bad was going to happen.

"Yeah Lu-lu?" Karen asked having not stopped. Lucy hated when Karen called her Lu-lu but she bit her tongue because everyone loved Karen. You couldn't be mad at her. Lucy liked Karen sure, but she was annoying too.

"Chickadee's restless."

Karen stopped and looked at her own pony, "Sunflower's fine. Maybe she's just acting funny? You know how horses get," Lucy frowned but didn't rebuke her. Karen was older than Lucy, she was one of the oldest younger kids in Saddlebunch, everyone looked up to her, even Lucy.

Lucy wasn't convinced though, Chickadee was a good pony and never gave Lucy any trouble. She didn't give anyone any trouble but the mare wasn't having it. "Shhhh," she cooed to Chickadee and stroked her soft neck. "It's okay Chickadee," but Chickadee just snorted and stomped their hooves and started pulling Lucy towards the corn field. "Hey! No, bad girl," Lucy scolded.

Karen laughed, "Having trouble Lu-lu?"

Chickadee lurched forward and into the corn field. It was later in the season and the corn plants towered over Lucy and Chickadee both. "Chickadee what are you doing? Karen, help!" she called. From the road Karen laughed.

"You can't even handle one pony Lucy?"

"Just help me," and she heard Karen enter the corn field, leaving Sunflower on the road. The pony wouldn't wander, they were trained not to.

"Where are ya' Lu-lu?"

"Here!" Lucy shook from corn even as Chickadee led her deeper into the field despite Lucy yanking and tugging on the halter. Then she froze when she heard a big truck coming down the road. There was no one out here and they knew the schedules for all the farms for these roads. There shouldn't be a truck here.

"What's that?" Karen asked.

"I don't know," Lucy said and a chill went through her when the truck turned out to be trucks and they stopped. Chickadee tugged and Lucy followed. Her pony had been right.

"Spread out. We're close, who knows if they got scouts out here," Lucy heard a man say, though his voice was muffled by the corn and distance.

"Lucy?" Karen called.

"You hear that?" and Lucy didn't dare answer when a different man spoke. She pushed Chickadee into a row and climbed onto the pony's back. Where was Karen? She hoped the older girl was hiding.

Lucy was very still and clapped her hand over her mouth when someone burst out from the corn next to her. It was Karen. "Lucy!" she cried in a whisper.

"What's happening?" Lucy asked back in a whisper.

"I don't know," Karen said. "I'm going to go get Sunflower. You go back to Saddlebunch and tell them, got it?"

"Just come with me, Chickadee can take two," Lucy said.

Karen just grinned, "Nah, I can do this. It'll just be like hide and seek. Now go," and before Lucy could say how bad Karen was at hide and seek the older girl was gone.

Lucy didn't move for several moments and then she nudged Chickadee forward. Quickly she had her pony going at a full run through the corn field and was out the other side on a tiny dirt road when she heard automatic gunfire. She pulled Chickadee up short and looked behind her wildly, dirt being kicked up by her pony's hooves and the wind. All that was behind her was the corn field and she heard shouting. Quickly she turned Chickadee in the direction of Saddlebunch and kicked her into a gallop.

It felt like the longest ride of Lucy's life, though it was perhaps only a mile or so before she was inside the gates of Saddlebunch Ranch. She dismounted Chickadee in the middle of the square all the houses ringed and ran for hers. "Mommy!" she cried, throwing open the door. Her mother was in the kitchen, working on dinner. "Mommy, mommy, mommy!" she raced to her mother.

"Lucy? What is it sweetie, what's wrong?" her mother, Margaret, asked, wiping her hands of dinner to put her hands on her daughter.

"There was- there was," she had to take several deep breaths to get her breath. "Me and Karen were walking the ponies home from the lake and Chickadee started acting funny. She pulled me into one of the corn fields and Karen came after me. Then some big trucks came, and men. They said 'spread out, there might be scouts' or something like that. They followed us into the corn."

"Where's Karen?" her mother asked very seriously.

"She said she was going to get Sunflower and that I needed to get home. I-I heard gunfire."

Margaret's eyes went wide and she stood up straight. "Nickolas!" she hollered.

"What is it momma?" Lucy's brother called from his room upstairs. Nickolas was a teenager, almost a man. He was the man of the house after their father had died while off working with one of his friends.

"We got reds," and there was silence from the upstairs. Margaret moved away from Lucy and Lucy followed her outside to the big bell in the center of Saddlebunch. Lucy had never heard it ring before and children were forbidden to touch it. You got punished severely if you touched the big bell. Now her mommy grabbed the string attached to the clapper and Lucy covered her mouth in shock when Margaret beat the clapper back and forth loudly.

The noise was dying as Nickolas came out of the house. He had a rifle in his hands and two knives on his belt. Then Lucy started to see people come out of their homes, with knives or guns, looking wary but unafraid. Mr. Fischer, the head of the Saddlebunch Ranch, came up to the bell. Margaret told him the story Lucy had told her.

"Impossible," he said. "Perhaps she mis-saw," Mr. Fischer had the meanest green eyes Lucy had ever seen and she didn't like when he looked at her.

"I know what I saw," Lucy said. "And what I heard. It was automatic gun fire," she nodded as if to reassure and affirm herself.

For a second it almost looked like Mr. Fischer's eyes changed colors. But it was just a trick of the light. "Very well," he said and grabbed the bell handle. He rang it three times and then called to everyone, "Reds are here, we're going to meet them on the road."

"Nickolas," Margaret said to Lucy's brother, "Take your sister to Mr. Fischer's house. The rest of the kids'll be there."

"Yes momma. Do I get to come?" he asked as he took Lucy's hand.

Margaret had a pained look on her face, "Yes," she said.

Nickolas puffed up, "I'll make dad proud," he said.

"I know you will. Now take your sister into the house."

Nickolas nodded, "C'mon Lucy," he said and they walked towards Mr. Fischer's house. As they entered someone was leaving, Mrs. Scott who had five year old twin boys. Nickolas took her inside and left her with Mrs. Fischer.

"Nick," Lucy grabbed his hand before he could leave.

"Yeah Lucy?" he asked.

"What's going on?"

He grinned and crouched in front of her, holding onto both of her hands, putting his gun on the floor. "We're gonna go fight some bad guys," he told her.

"You and mommy?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "And the rest of the adults. You'll be safe here though."

"You'll come back right? You'll be all right, right?"

"Of course! Me and momma will be back in a little while. You be good for Mrs. Fischer okay?"

"Okay," she nodded.

"See you in a bit," and he kissed her forehead, picked up his gun, and left. Lucy watched him go,

Her brother was a liar though. Her mommy didn't come home, and Nickolas barely did at all. How were they the good guys? Good guys always won. Yet they'd killed her mommy and taken her brother's legs and one eye. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Lucy wondered then if they were really the good guys. What if they were the bad guys instead?


	25. The Child V

Hua Shan 2030

It was breakfast. The adults that were awake at this house, Rebecca and Felix, were their normal, quiet, semi grumpy, selves first thing in the morning while they ate breakfast. Duncan felt exhausted. He hadn't been using the Animus to relive Adam's memories any more. Not after what happened. It had been a week since he'd last lived in Adam's body, Anny B was still trying to figure out what had happened. Duncan however hadn't stayed out of the Animus. It was too tempting, too perfect.

Duncan knew he'd never have a chance like this again. The adults in his life were keen on keeping him in the dark, not stupid, but unknowing. He knew they talked, when he wasn't with them or when he couldn't hear. There was something happening in the world, something he didn't know, or understand fully. They were _keeping_ things from him, he knew that much. There was very little Duncan hated more than not knowing, or not being good enough.

The memories of his parents offered clear, terrible, insight into what the others weren't telling him. But he could only follow them both so far. He didn't know his father's death, but he saw him killing himself in the Animus, and he still didn't know how his mother died. Well, the second time she died. He knew the Assassin she'd been had died some time in Abstergo. His parents had not had good lives, they'd had moments of happiness and peace. A brief joy of freedom from the responsibilities they were burdened with because of their birth. But he'd never call them happy.

Except maybe in those brief moments with each other. Or maybe Duncan was just a romantic.

Reliving his parents' memories left him exhausted and worn out like a rag wrung out too many times. He knew reliving the past was a workout on the mind but being so close to the present wasn't ideal either. Duncan often forgot what day of the week it was, or what year it was. He knew, because he'd watched and lived Desmond suffering through it, that it wasn't the Bleeding Effect. This wasn't that. This was just him getting confused.

One benefit though, of reliving his father's life and Adam's too, was his increase in skill. Felix noted on it, that he _moved_ different. With more grace than some seventeen year old should. Desmond had been a master before he'd died, even if his body hadn't been up to the standard he'd have liked his technique was _flawless_. Adam had been a different breed, he could feel it when he made Adam move. They were different, but the same, and Duncan learned from them both. Desmond also helped Duncan activate the Eagle Vision, what Adam called the sixth sense. He'd tried with just Adam's knowledge, but Adam's brain ancient brain was wired differently than Duncan's modern one. Desmond being able to access his second sight helped Duncan figure out his own.

"You're oftly quiet," Duncan started when Felix spoke.

"Uh…" Duncan said.

"Usually by now you're telling me and Rebecca about some dream you had," Felix's voice as mild.

"I don't remember any," or been having any really. Since he'd started laying in the Animus his normal vivid, lucid, dreams had stopped. Now if he ever dreamed he dreamed he was in the White Room with it's twisting memory structure and volumous white clouds though sometimes strange, dark, spots slid briefly into view.

"Really?" Rebecca asked. Oh god why were they asking questions?

Duncan shrugged, "Nothing really going on. I haven't had much stimulation," that was the truth at least.

Rebecca frowned and then she and Felix seemed to have a telepathic moment. "You're right," Rebecca said. "Felix and William are going to meet with some of our men in Xi'an, an hour and a half away. You should go."

Duncan's eyes got wide, "I can?" he asked.

"I'll talk about it with William," Felix agreed. "It'd do you good to get out of this damn temple. Also we might need someone who speaks mandarin, and none of these old guys here are up for the trip."

Duncan smiled broadly, "Okay!" he said excitedly. He'd get to go on a trip. That was great! Duncan only ever got to go to the nearest town of whatever middle of nowhere they were staying, never one a 'few hours away'. That could be a city! Well maybe not, but it'd be a _big_ town, not like the village just down the mountain. Duncan couldn't wait!


	26. The Assassin II

Xi'an 2030

The helicopter landed with a soft thud and Daniel was the first one off. It had taken them a few years, but they'd finally tracked their prize to this province in China, finding exactly _where_ they were would be another thing all together. And this was going to be a double whammy. The Mentor here, and so was Nick.

Thinking about Nick made Daniel want to grind his teeth. The guy was a kid, practically a brat, and was still important to the Templars in a way Daniel… wasn't. Sure he was still important but he was getting on in his years. Stearns was nearly dead as it was and Vidic was gone, England didn't like him and it seemed like only Sung actually liked him. It was not a good time to be Daniel Cross.

Unlike Nick. He came from two very long lines of Assassins, and Templars (who knew) and could do everything Desmond could do, make things _work_ that no one else could make work. The Templars had been waiting for him, or someone like him, like they'd been waiting for Desmond. But the dumb bastard had gone and killed himself instead of dealing with it. Daniel got it, really, he did. How many times had he stared at the tip of a knife after a bad attack? Too many to count without making himself feel bad.

His men disembarked from the copter as the blades glided to a halt. Last off, residual wind throwing her ponytail all over, was Lucy. Daniel looked at her, but not too hard, and didn't touch. Last time he'd seen her had been in New York, 'working' on that Assassin she'd found in Denver. That had been five years ago. Since then Daniel had been training agents, Lucy was sent to hunt Assassins, a job he used to have. Seemed like she was becoming the new him. Yet somehow she was… better at it. Daniel admitted he didn't know the Assassins as well as he thought he did. Lucy? She really did know them, she was one. She looked different now as she stepped onto the heli pad, she was harder, but ageless, meaning she was still beautiful.

"Daniel," she said in greeting, they hadn't spoken the entire trip and barely even recognized each other were there.

"Nice to see you again Lucy," he said.

She gave him a sort of smile, "You doing okay?" she asked him.

"Not dead yet," Daniel said proudly.

"Good," she still had that sort of smile on her face and Daniel didn't know quite what it meant. "Ready to hunt some birds?"

"Am I ever," Daniel said and they walked off the helipad together.


	27. The Mentor III

For the first time, in a long, long, time, William felt old. He hadn't felt like this since Duncan was a little boy, one William could hold in one arm. He'd been so small then, and William had promised himself this time it'd be different, he wouldn't do what he'd done to Desmond, to Duncan. Looking at his grandson standing in the square in Xi'an, staring at all the new things like he'd never seen anything like it in his life William didn't know if he'd succeeded.

There was one thing about Miles men, they were strong willed, and stubborn. William knew that, Desmond had been that too. It made them good leaders. But Desmond was different then William, or his father, or his grandfather. William's entire family had had an intense sense of honor and duty to their cause. That hadn't been Desmond. He'd fought against his duty his entire life. He'd been too curious, too willful than even the rest of his family. He belonged to no one and didn't care what anyone else thought.

Clearly when he'd had a child with a known traitor (though she hadn't been at the time).

Looking at Duncan now, face full of wonder, he couldn't help but think what if he'd become like his father. Rebellious, too interested in the world outside to care about what happened inside. He'd made sure Duncan wasn't cut off from the outside world like he had with Desmond. He knew the state of the world, somewhat, some things were filtered. William thought it was for the best. He didn't want anything to happen to his boy. He'd lost his son twice, he didn't want to lose his grandson too.

"Close your mouth D," Felix said good naturally as he pulled his gear from the back of the car.

"Right, sorry," Duncan closed his mouth. "I've never been in a city before," he said in a soft voice and it ground harshly against William when he said that. Duncan had lived his life in the country, he'd only see pictures of cities. Though Xi'an wasn't that big of a city, it was still one of the largest cities in the province, and close to Hua Shan.

"We aren't here to play tourist," William reminded them both.

"Right, yes sir," Felix said.

"Yes papa," Duncan said, coming to proper attentiveness. One thing about Duncan over Desmond was that he listened more than Desmond ever did, better fighter, better soldier. Just better. He had so far shown none of his father's disobedience like talking back or running away or getting into things he wasn't supposed to. Maybe there was some hope yet, that Duncan would be the son William never had, and had wanted. Someone who'd take after him, who'd _want_ to take after him.

"Follow me," William said and led them away from the car. They were meeting a cell here that had come from Israel. Martin was in Israel right now, William had sent him there, hoping he'd get himself killed working there. So far no death had been reported. But William hadn't thrown away time with his own child to chase the most important place in the Order and sacrificed decades of his time for some green faced little shit like Martin to claim that _he_ was the Mentor. William was old, but he wasn't out and he didn't take well to shitty upstarts like Martin. He couldn't outright order the man killed, but if he died in action, it wasn't his fault was it? No, of course it wasn't.

There were cars and mopeds on the streets in Xi'an as well as peddle cars and cabs. Open faced buildings lined the streets, selling every manner of food or drink you could imagine, and maybe a few you couldn't if the look on Duncan's face when he saw roasted ox feet was any indication. Felix made sure to keep Duncan between himself and William. Cities were perfect places to lose Duncan. One missed turn and he could be gone. It didn't come to that though.

They walked the quarter mile to the rendezvous, a cafe on the side of the road with umbrellas over the tables. Felix sat Duncan in a chair and William sat as well. Felix then made himself invisible and William didn't bother looking for him. An Assassin was unseen and even big and blonde and European Felix was impossible to see.

"This is amazing," Duncan said, now that he was sitting it was like his head was on a swivel and wouldn't stop moving. A waiter came. "Are we getting anything?" he asked William.

"Just get drinks, we aren't eating," William said, hands on his stomach, content to wait.

"You want anything?"

"No. Get whatever you want," and then he heard Duncan speaking Mandarin. There was a brief exchange and then the waiter left.

Duncan was sipping on a hot tea when a man approached the table and sat down without asking. He was totally at ease. "Sir," they said. The man's name was George, the head of a cell that worked inside Israel. Israel was nearly about to self combust. Everything in the Middle East was just going to hell. The war hadn't stopped, only gone through highs and lows, and had started to engulf eastern Europe, and northern Africa and parts of India. Some people were calling it World War III, others were calling it the Standing of Judaism, others called it the Second Rise of Islam. It was scaring the world and no one knew quite what to do to make it stop. The lines between friend and foe were thin to non existent and it was hard to determine who to help and who to fight. It was like running around with your head cut off, or directing a bunch of headless workers really.

George had been in Israel for a long time, he'd been one of the first people in and ran surveillance and spy networks as well a human smuggler who got people in and out of the country after it had gone into lock down. He looked tired, but ready. "Good you could make it," William said.

"No easy task," George said. "The Israelites have increased border patrol-" then he noticed Duncan. "Who's this?" he asked sharply.

"My grandson. You can speak freely in front of him."

George didn't seem pleased by that but he didn't argue. "Fine."

"What's the word on Martin? I haven't heard from his cell in a month."

"Same. I've heard rumors he left the country and went to Brazil."

"Brazil? What's there?"

"No idea. You wanna know about Brazil you need to talk to Ximena," she was the head of the South American branch of the Order, one for each continent. They all referred to William, but handled most day to day affairs of their continent.

William frowned. Why the hell would Martin be in Brazil? The civil unrest there was over. If anything most other countries had become extremely peaceful with the eruption of WW III. Afraid to be noticed and have their own war, be brought into the absolute mess the middle east had become. "I will," he'd send an email tonight. "What else do you have for me? You said you had something you needed to give me in person."

George looked around briefly before reaching down and pulled his bag onto his lap. "We found it in a stash of stolen museum art when one of Damascus' museums was raided a few years ago."

"I remember."

"It was archival. Never been seen," and he slid a white rod from his bag. It was about a foot long and gleaming, clean, white, without any ornaments or engraving. "I doubt they knew what it even was," he said as he handed it to William.

"And what is it?"

"One of _their_ weapons" and now William was paying attention. "We don't know what it does or how it works, but it gives off an energy signature like nothing we've seen."

"I see," William said and took the rod. It was paper light in his hand. "How many people tried it?"

"I had every member who was on the front try it if they could. Not one of them even made it twitch."

"Hmm, well, this certainly is big news. I'll have my techs look into it, see if they can make it work," he glanced at Duncan, who was watching with a sort of hyper intensity. It reminded William of Desmond. When his son wanted to engage he was painfully hooked in and didn't miss a single moment. A little voice in the back of his mind reminded him Lucy was like that too and with those blue eyes on him William suddenly was more reminded of her than his own son. Duncan knew better than to ask what was going on at least. If he needed to know William would tell him.

"Then you'll have better techs than me. I tried sir, really."

"I know," William said and put the rod into the pocket of his coat. "You came a long way to give me this George."

"I didn't trust anyone else," George said. "I didn't know who's with you, who's with Martin. I couldn't risk him getting it."

"He's still on about being the Mentor?"

"Yes," George said. "You've… been away for so long, sir. The Mentor has I mean. The others are starting to lose sight, I can tell. We _need_ something. We need you, more than ever, to guide us."

William tried not to let the heaviness of his heart show on his face. He mostly succeeded. "I know, son," William put his hand on George's shoulder.

A sudden presence filled the space behind him. It was Felix, he leaned down to speak into William's ear. "They found us," he said softly. William stiffened.

William looked at Duncan, "Duncan," he motioned and his grandson hopped to his feet. William eased himself to his feet, he couldn't do it at a great speed anymore. Damn these old bones. George clearly got the vibe something was wrong.

"Is your cell here?" Felix asked George.

"Yes sir," he said, George nodded.

"Get them into position around us. We got reds," and George's eyes narrowed.

"Will do," he nodded curtly and then left.

"We're leaving," William said.

"Okay," Duncan said, not asking any questions. Good boy. If this had been Desmond he would have asked ten questions, demanded answers, and then been pissed not getting them.

"Where were they?" William asked Felix as Duncan left some money on the table for his tea before following them quickly.

"Few blocks away. I don't think they know we're here."

"But they're looking for us," and William glanced at Duncan. Seventeen years of moving and uprooting every few years wasn't for William's benefit. The Mentor was invisible, anonymous. The Templars didn't really care about the Mentor after Daniel had killed the one before William. They'd done what they'd wanted, shake the hornet's nest, now it didn't matter who or where the Mentor was. They searched for him on cruise control. All the moving was for Duncan. They were actively seeking him. They wanted him, like they'd wanted his father. William didn't know why. But they did. William wouldn't let them. Not now, not ever.

"Yes," Felix said, not missing the way William had looked at Duncan. George was gone already and William knew his cell would form an invisible protection around them.

Nothing came, no one stopped them. Everything went as it should and Duncan didn't seem as distracted before, he knew it was time to be serious, not to be a sight seeing tourist. It looked like they were going to get away scott free.

Duncan stopped when they entered the square where they'd parked the car, looking very confused by something and William's eyes widened when Duncan's eyes turned golden. William couldn't do it, but he knew what was going on; Eagle Vision. "What do you see?" William asked him and Duncan jumped.

"W-what?" Duncan asked, his eyes blue again, he looked scared, like he'd done something wrong.

"My son could do that too, what did you see?" William asked, hand on Duncan's arm firmly.

"Red," Duncan said. "Is that who you meant? Reds?"

"Yes," William said. "What else?"

"Blue too," he said.

"That's George and his cell," and Duncan didn't look like he believed him. "Where was the red?" he asked.

"Them," Duncan pointed and even William could see them. While not obvious at first when Duncan pointed them out it became clear. Men dressed in black and red and looked like police men, but they weren't. Templars.

"Not good," Felix said softly. "I can't be with you, I stick out," and then he was gone. William didn't blame him, both he and Desmond had so much mixed up genetics and different racial identifiers that they could look like they belonged in just about any population, even Chinese, though it was a bit harder to sell. Not like Felix though, all big and blonde.

"Lets go," William took Duncan's hand and they went the long way, around the Templars, to the car. Duncan was watching the crowd, eyes golden, but following.

William jolted when he suddenly lost grip of Duncan's hand and for a brief moment Duncan was swallowed up by the people in the square, the crowd large because of the nearby market. William felt panic well in his throat when they parted and Duncan _wasn't there_. No no no no no. He looked around quickly before he found it. Duncan's shirt, several feet in front of where he'd been.

"Mom," he heard Duncan call and William's blood went absolutely cold. But nothing happened. Duncan walked forward, pushing against the crowd. William followed, shoving people if he had to. He saw it all falling apart. "Lucy!" and William thought he'd never hear that name again. How did Duncan even know it? However he did it got Felix's attention as well as the Templars'. The 'police' started moving towards Duncan.

"Get him," William hissed when Felix appeared at his side, pointing at Duncan. Felix moved through the crowd like water even as Duncan called Lucy's name a second time. Where was she? Where?

"Hey!" he heard Duncan yell when Felix grabbed him and pulled him back. He heard Duncan's voice but not what he was saying and the crowd eased from around them so William could see through them and saw Duncan struggling.

Several people suddenly screamed and the entire crowd ducked and shied away when a gunshot went off. Even Felix and the Templars did. The entire square's eyes went to the source of the noise, which was one of the few people still standing properly.

It shouldn't have been intimidating. But it was. When someone aimed a gun at you it was scary. Lucy Stillman looked like she was about to rip the earth apart, standing there, feet planted, holding a pistol in both hands, aimed right at Felix and Duncan. "Get away from him," she said loudly to Felix.

"Mom!" Duncan cried and struggled against Felix.

"You have till the count of three," Lucy said in a hard voice. Felix was busy dragging Duncan back. "One." Felix ignored her and had taken to lifting Duncan up off the ground. "Two." Duncan was still struggling.

She never got to three. More screaming followed a series of gunshots and half the Templars were suddenly down. People ran and the gunshots didn't equal the dead. Too many dead now, to few gunshots. Some of the dead had been stabbed. Six people melted from the running crowd. George and his cell.

"Lemmie go!" Duncan cried. "Felix lemmie go!" at least Felix was close now.

"Go, go, go," Felix hissed to William.

"Drop the weapon lady, and no one needs to get hurt here," he heard George say.

"William!" Lucy called to him and he looked, even as he moved quickly away. She pulled the trigger and he dropped. Next he heard her scream as her bullet went wide and hit a building.

"NO!" Duncan yelled. "No stop!" They'd arrived at the car. Felix opened the back and shoved Duncan in. "No! Let me go! LET ME GO!" Duncan screamed and kicked and punched.

"Sorry kid," Felix said and punched Duncan in the face. Finally his fighting stopped and he fell limp into the back seat. William was already in the driver's seat. He heard more gunfire and as Felix climbed into the passenger side he looked. Lucy had fallen but other Templars had arrived. George and his cell were fleeing and William saw Daniel there, helping Lucy to her feet. He put the car into drive as he saw her unable to stand and Daniel pick her up off the ground, cradled against his body. Then he was looking forward, the tires squealed as they peeled away from the square.


	28. The Chosen III

Hua Shan 2030

Half way back to the temple Duncan woke up and Felix hadn't heard the kid scream like that since he was three years old and had fallen off a counter he'd climbed onto. It wasn't just screaming either, it was cursing too, words Felix hadn't known Duncan even knew, and William ordered Felix to restrain his grandson. Felix hadn't really known what to do other than knock him out again. This time he didn't punch the kid though, one bruise on his face was enough for today. Instead he had to nearly climb into the back and squeezed a pressure point on Duncan's neck. The kid dropped and it was so quiet and the car suddenly so loud it was like the silence didn't know what to do with itself.

Felix thumped back into his seat and stared, wide eyed, at William, who was watching the road. They were climbing a mountain, he couldn't look away from the road. They didn't say anything for a while and then Felix couldn't take the silence. "He knew-

"I know," William cut him out. Felix had never known Duncan's parents, but he'd been told about them. He'd also watched some of Desmond's memories as part of his mission briefing fifteen years ago. He knew why it was important Duncan didn't know his parents. Not only was it so he didn't feel loney about it but also so he wouldn't know the terrible events that had befallen them. Desmond sacrifcing himself and both saving and damning the entire world to a crazy 'space wizard' (Felix had liked Desmond's 'official' termonolegy for the Ancients… Proeathans. Whatever) who wanted to enslave the human race. That only after stabbing the woman he'd been having a serious love affair with, fathering a child he didn't know about. And Lucy, going rogue, allegidly turning on them, getting stabbed and falling into a coma she had never woken up from.

"She's alive-

"I know!" William snapped.

"She's not supposed to be awake!" Felix cried back, more than a little freaked out. He ran his hands through his hair. They'd kept close watch on Abstergo after they'd rescued Duncan from them. They watched for Lucy's name, or her later code name Siren. There hadn't been a blip other than standard protocol for her comatose state which had been ongoing and updated for the past fifteen years. "How is she awake? How did we miss this?" Felix demanded.

"I don't know," William said in a soft voice and glanced into the back seat at Duncan, who looked peaceful and asleep.

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know."

"What are you going to tell him?"

"…I don't know."

—

Duncan was still asleep when they arrived at the temple, the bruise on his face had turned bright and purple. Felix felt bad for that. He hadn't wanted to hit the kid, but in the moment it was the only thing he thought to do. He picked the kid- big kid holy crap when did Duncan get so heavy?- up out of the back seat carefully to not bump his head.

William sighed and ran his hand through his mostly white hair. "Take him to his room, lock the door," he ordered.

"Right. When he wakes up?"

"I'll deal with it then," William groaned.

Felix nodded and took Duncan to his room. As he walked past the Animus room Rebecca saw him. "Felix," she called but he ignored her. She got up and followed him as he got to Duncan's room and opened the door with some difaculty. "Felix," Rebecca said again as Felix put Duncan on his cot. "What happened to Duncan?" he heard her worry like an electric charge on his skin.

He turned to her and put his hands on her shoulders, "He's fine," he promised her. "I had to knock him out. The first time I… punched him-

"You what!?" she cried.

"Calm down. He wasn't coming quietly and we were getting shot at. I kinda panicked. He woke up a little while ago and I got him on the neck this time," she seemed a bit calmer now knowing he wasn't out now from a punch.

"Okay. What happened?"

"Well we were-

"Shaun, Rebecca,Felix, Tony," William suddenly called.

Felix's eyes darted to the door. "I'll tell you later," he promised.

"Okay," she looked at Duncan. "You're sure he's fine?"

"Other than a punch to the face that he's had way worse for, yes, I'm sure. When he woke up he started screaming and cursing at be and Bill."

"What? Why?"

"Rebecca, Felix," William's voice cut through the temple like a knife.

"Later, if he doesn't tell you," anf Felix pushed Rebecca out the door, he locked it after him. This was why Duncan always had a room with the lock on the outside. Felix never thought he'd have to use it though. Until now.

He and Rebecca walked to the main area where Shaun and Tony, the head of William's guard detail, already were with the Mentor. "There you are. He okay?" William asked.

"Sleeping," Felix shrugged.

"Good. We're leaving," he said.

"Where?" Shaun didn't even ask why. None of them did. They all knew, without being told, that Templars were close. He saw Rebecca pale.

"South east Asia or India," William said. "We still have a hold in Vietnam and our brothers in India would welcome us. Rebecca, Shaun, pack up the Animus and our gear. Tony, watch the road, they might have been able to follow us, also George and his cell might be heading this way. Felix…"

"Sir?" Felix asked.

"Watch Duncan," William said seriously.

"What happened?" Rebecca asked.

"We were found, and attacked by Templars," William said. They all jumped at an unexpected, loud, thump, from down the hall.

"Open the door!" came the muffled cry from down the hall.

"He's awake," Felix said.

"Yes thank you Felix," William said testily.

"Should I let him out?"

"Open the door!" Duncan yelled again.

"No. Let him calm down first-" even as William said that though Chloe appeared down the hall. She didn't see them and unlocked the door unknowingly. She had to jump back when the door was slammed open.

"Duncan, your face-" Chloe started but Duncan turned his blue eyes down the hall and Felix thought for a second he was going to set his grandfather on fire just from the intensity of his eyes. Then he stormed down the hall to the common room and Felix was made to realize just how _big_ Duncan really was. He knew Desmond had been tall, taller than William, more Felix's height, though leaner. Right now Duncan looked bigger than Felix and Felix wasn't quite sure how he managed that since he knew Duncan _was_ shorter than him.

Then he stood in front of all of them and no one said anything. They could all feel the wild energy rolling off Duncan. Duncan was, on general terms, a very laid back guy. He didn't get worked up about stuff, didn't get angry, and let things sort of just happen to him, he was chill, and went with the flow of things. Now Duncan was posativly _hostile_ and glaring at William. Felix couldn't recall Duncan ever glaring at _anyone, _least of all his grandfather.

"You lied to me," Duncan finally spoke, his voice was amazingly cool and even.

William swallowed uneasily, clearly he'd wanted a bit more time to come up with what to say and definetly _not_ have this conversation in front of everyone. "I didn't," he said.

"You said they were _dead_," Duncan hissed.

"They are," William said. Yeah that'd work William. Just deny it even though Duncan had seen Lucy with his own two eyes.

"No they aren't!" Duncan yelled. "I saw her!"

"Saw who?" Rebecca asked though Felix could tell she was piecing it together herself.

"My mother," Duncan said, not looking at Rebecca, but at William. "I saw her and you said she was dead," he accused to William.

"She is dead," William said sternly. "She should have stayed dead."

Wrong thing to say. Duncan started to tremble, his hands as fists. "What. Happened. To. Them," he said through clenched teeth.

William _clearly_ didn't want to have this conversation now, but he didn't have a choice. "They _are _dead Duncan. Templars killed them."

"Then who was that!?" Duncan yelled. "That wasn't a ghost. That wasn't a look alike. That was her! She's alive. Is my dad alive too and you're just not telling me that too?"

"No. Desmond is dead," William said.

"You keep saying that," Duncan said, "but you lied about my mother, how do I know you're not lying about everything you've ever told me?"

William frowned, "Your mother was in a coma. Desmond died. They're _gone_. That woman you saw today. That wasn't your mother. That was a Templar."

Duncan looked at William with hard, defiant eyes. "Tell me the truth," he said firmly. "How did he die?"

"Templars-

"Don't lie to me!" Duncan yelled. "My father would never have been taken down by cheap shits like that," where had Duncan even _learned_ to curse? They didn't swear around him, at all and any internet page he went to had the words filtered out. He shoudn't _know_ how to swear. And how did he even know all this stuff? Something wasn't adding up and it was making Felix uneasy. They were missing something.

William didn't answer him. Felix didn' blame him. Duncan had grown up his whole life thinking his parents had died while protecting him, fighting Templars, going down in a blaze of glory. The truth was a lot more terrible, sobering, and just downright mean. The silence was long and uncomfortable. "He died in the Animus didn't he?" Duncan's voice was nearly calm but sounding _so_ heartbroken it made Felix's chest ache. "And I bet you let him."

"You don't know what you're talking about boy," William said harshly.

"I don't?" Duncan asked. "Then why is Rebecca," the first time Duncan never called Rebecca Anny B, "so scared all the time when you make me get in it?" he asked. "What's so awful about the Animus?"

"Duncan-

"Why won't you tell me?" Duncan demanded. "Because you don't want me to be him? Because you don't want me to… to-" he struggled for a second, "to go against you like he did? Don't want me to hate you like he did."

"Be quiet. You hae no idea what you're talking about."

"I don't?" Duncan demanded. "Cause I don't hear you telling me I'm wrong. All I hear is how fucking scared you are that I'll turn into _him_. All I see is you wanting a second chance after you fucked up your first one."

"Don't you talk to me like that boy," William growled.

"Or _what_?" Duncan challenged him. "Going to hit me? You were pretty good at that, hitting kids," and Felix saw William's hand curl into a fist like he _wanted to_. He knew the Miles came from a bit of a conservative compound, Felix had come from a much more liberal one, he'd never been hit. The idea that members of the order, or even parents, were hitting their kids was a terrible idea. Next to him Rebecca had her hands over her mouth looking horrified. Shaun was dead white and Tony's face was mirroring Felix's; he didn't know what to do.

"No, I'm not," William said tightly. "And you don't get to talk like that to me boy. Don't forget who raised you."

"I haven't," Duncan said. "You didn't. You were just _around_ and keeping me kept for some stupid fucking war I don't even know about with something so completely beyond our scope of understanding you had to send me back into Adam's body just so you could get a grasp on how badly we're all _fucked_."

"You don't know what you're talking about Duncan."

"I think I know a lot more than you," Duncan said. "I'm the one laying in that Animus, I'm the one you've been training all this time for some secret purpose, I'm the one you've all been _lying to_ all this time!"

"We haven't-

"No more lying!" Duncan cried.

Felix was absolutly stunned when William decked Duncan in the face.

"Bill!" Chloe cried when Duncan toppled. She'd been quiet up till now and now she came foward and pushed the two apart.

"You listen here boy," William said, his voice hot and cold at the same time. "You don't know anything. Everyone here has sacrificed everything for you. So show them _some respect_," Duncan glared defiantly at William from the ground, looking almost satisfied with the out come.

"That's _enough_," Chloe said. "Felix, take Duncan to his room. Tony, take Bill to his," she ordered.

Felix snapped out of his stupor. "Yes, ma'am," he said. Tony echoed him a bit quieter. Felix picked Duncan up off the ground. The teenager jerked away from him, his eyes still hostile, and walked away. Felix sort of followed him back to his room and Duncan slammed the door after him. Further away he heard another door slam, William no doubt. Well, they were definetly related.

He heard talking from the common room and drifted back over to them. Shaun, Rebecca, and Chloe were talking. "-at even just happened?" Shaun said.

"I don't know," Rebecca said, looking absolutly freaked out. She turned to Felix as he drew near. "Felix, what happened in Xi'an?" she asked.

"We met with George, he had information. I saw reds in the city. We were almost back at the car when… I don't know honestly. Duncan saw them before us. He said they were red, and blue… I had to leave them, I'm too easy to see in a crowd of Asians. I'm not sure just _what_ happened. But Duncan saw something and the next thing I knew he was away from William and calling for-" he trailed off, words failing him as he remembered what happened.

"Calling for who?" Shaun asked.

"His mother," Felix said, still sounding surprised by it. "First just mom, then he used her _name_. William had me grab him and there was a struggle. Lucy… she fired a gun, told me to get away from Duncan. She almost fired on us but George's cell was there. One of them hit her and we got away. Duncan _really _didn't want to go."

"So she is alive?" Rebecca asked.

"She is," Felix said. "And very well aparently. She's working with the Templars."

"Because we would never take her back," Rebecca said. "No wonder Duncan was so upset."

"Here's my question," Shaun said, fingertips pressed together in front of him. "This is all well and good in all but how did he know?" he looked at them all. "Who told him these things? Who showed him a picture of Lucy? Who told him about Desmond's prolonged exposure to the Animus? How did he know this? Cause I certainly didn't tell him and while he might have Lucy's clever brain he's still Desmond's son and Desmond could be as dumb as a box of rocks," Shaun said.

"I didn't," Felix said.

"I wouldn't do that to him," Chloe said.

"Don't look at me, I didn't tell him anything either," Rebecca said, hands raised slightly in defense.

"Then _how_ does he know all this? This isn't just something you can guess. He _knew_ things he shouldn't."

"Like how to swear," Felix said. "I've never heard him use a curse word till now."

"I was thinking more like he knew Lucy's _name_," Shaun said, slightly exasperated. "Or that… William would hit a kid. Or about Juno."

"I don't know," Rebecca said.

Felix blinked, "Who would know?" he asked. "Like, I didn't know William hit Desmond. Did you?"

"…No," Shaun admitted.

"Who did?"

"I did," Chloe said in a soft, slight, voice. "He used to hit Desmond. He thought that was what made our son run away. He promised he was going to be different with Duncan," she sounded so heart broken. Almost twenty years and at the end William had fallen off the wagon.

"Who else?" Felix asked.

"The members of the Farm," Chloe said, "he wasn't the only one to hit the kids."

"The kids would have known," Felix said, "_Desmond_ would have known."

Rebecca got it first. "He's been reliving Desmond's memories," she said.

"What? But how? You lock your computer and not even _I_ know the password," Shaun said. "We haven't seen the Animus being used in other ways. New files would have shown up in our database… Rebecca?" he asked when Rebecca looked worried.

"There would be a place new files could be made and we wouldn't see," she said.

"What? Where?"

"Desmond's old files," she said. "I kept them in another part of the database. I didn't… want to be reminded. They're probably there. Where I don't look."

"Oh Rebecca," Shaun said in a gentle tone.

"If he's been using the Animus for means other than Adam we have to see where he's been. What he's been seeing."

"We do," Shaun agreed.

"Clearly he's relived some of Desmond's childhood," Felix said. "He could have relived Desmond's entire life."

"Until conception," Rebecca said. "He doesn't know what he did to Lucy, or how he died."

"And we never told him," Chloe said.

"He doesn't need that," Shaun said, "That's what we _all_ agreed on. That he shouldn't have to know."

"I think we should have agreed different," Felix said and looked down the hall, Duncan's door was still closed.


	29. The Child VI

Once the door was closed Duncan threw himself onto his cot, grabbed his pillow, and screamed into it. He stayed like that for a long while, curled up around his pillow, breathing through the fabric and stuffing. He was so angry, he'd never been this angry in his life.

After a while though he couldn't hold onto it. He never had been able to hold onto his anger, no matter if he tried. It leeched from him and soon there was no buffer between him and the crushing feeling of grief in his chest. She'd been there. His mother. She'd seen him. When he'd called her she'd seen him and tried to get him. She'd _wanted him_. But he couldn't have her and she couldn't have him. Fate and the Assassins got in the way. But she'd been so close! So close he could almost touch her and hear her voice for real.

Duncan cried into his pillow, soaking it with his tears. All he wanted was his parents. That was all he wanted and all he'd ever wanted in his life. He didn't need or want anything else. All he'd ever wanted was the one thing forever denied him. He wanted his mom, his dad. He wanted them to be real and alive and to see them together as more than just ghosts in memories that left him on his bed at night in tears because the only way he could have them was in his dreams. He'd thought his entire life they were dead, had gone down fighting Templars.

But it had all been a great, fabricated _lie_.

Duncan's entire life was nothing more than a lie. His papa and nana, Anny B, Shaun, Felix, they'd all _lied_ to him. And they were all in on it too! They all knew all the lies they were telling him. Duncan had never felt so betrayed and now he didn't know what to believe, who to trust. He felt like he couldn't trust a single one of them. If they'd lied about this, the one seemingly constant thing in Duncan's life, that his parents were dead, then what _else_ were they lying about?

Not for the first time in his life Duncan wanted his mother. He wanted her to come and make it better like mothers on the TV and in movies did. To just hug him and be near because now he was alone. Alone with the people he'd been with his entire life and he had no one. He could't trust any of them ever again, because the world was a lie. He didn't know if he'd trust anyone ever again.

"You can trust me, Duncan," he looked up for the voice who'd just spoken. He'd stopped crying by now, but his pillow was beyond help, and his face was red and swollen, even more so now from getting punched twice in one day.

"W-who's there?" he croaked because no one was there in his room but him.

"Who's always been here silly boy," the voice, decidedly female in nature, said.

"Show yourself."

"I am. You're just pretending you can't see me," and the line hit him like a sledgehammer. He knew that line, he knew that _voice_.

"S-Sonno?" he asked carefully and sat up, hugging his pillow to him. When he was kid Sonno had been his imaginary friend. When he didn't want to see her he'd ignore her and she'd say he'd 'pretend he couldn't see her'. Not that she was ever gone, but that Duncan was refusing to acknowledge her.

"Yes, Duncan," she said. Duncan took a moment and then like someone was putting an overlay across his vision he could see her. Because he wanted to see her, because he wanted _someone _to make it stop _hurting_ so much. "Hello Duncan," she said. She looked different now. Before she'd been a little girl, the same age as Duncan with dark brown hair and knobby knees and a playful smile that made her yellow eyes turn into slits. Now she was a woman, Duncan's age, her brown hair like lamb curls, neatly against her head, still with that playful smile of her's. She looked familiar, but not in a way he was comfortable with, like he'd seen her like this before.

"You look different," he said and realized _he_ looked a mess and suddenly felt very awkward. He knew on a concious level Sonno wasn't real but he'd never been in the same room, alone, with someone even remotely his age, much less someone who actually looked so pretty. What did he say to his old imaginary friend who was… hot?

"So do you," she said sweetly. "I'm glad you're not ignoring me anymore."

"You're not real," he said. She frowned. "I mean, no one else can see or hear you."

"Just because you're the only one who can doesn't make me any less real, Duncan," she said, "You're the only one here who can use the sixth sense but that doesn't make what you can see any less real does it?"

"I guess. Have you always been here?"

"Remember when we first met?" she asked him.

"No," he admitted shyly, sad to admit he didn't. It had been a long time ago and he'd been so young.

"Well good thing I do," she said cheerfully. "I told you, 'Hello Duncan, my name is Sonnno, I'd like to be your friend.' You said, 'I've never had a friend. Everyone who isn't my family goes away. When are you going to go away?' and I said, 'never.' I've always been here, watching over you, waiting until you'd notice me again."

"Oh. I'm sorry Sonno," he said sadly.

"It's okay," she said, just finding him amusing, "with a guardian like William I wouldn't have believed in imaginary friends either."

"Why could I only hear you now?"

"Because you needed me," she looked sad and like she wanted to help him, "and because even if you didn't think it, you wanted me here. You wanted someone who would never betray or lie to you and only love you."

Duncan flushed at the thought. Not what he needed right now thanks. "Well that makes sense," he said.

"I understand why you're so upset."

"At least someone is," then he paused. "Do you know?" he asked her.

"Know what?"

"What happened to my parents?"

"Yes."

"Tell me," he said softly.

"No."

"Why not?" for a second his temper flared.

"Because I don't want to hurt you like that."

"My dad, is he dead?"

"Yes."

Duncan squeezed his eyes closed and pressed his face into the pillow. He took a deep breath through the stuffing. When he'd mastered himself a bit better he pulled the pillow away from his face. "And you won't tell me how?"

"No."

"Did you know him?"

"Yes. Briefly," she seemed lost in thought for a moment, "He was so… magnificent. So beautiful."

"Hey," Duncan said defensivly, that was his _dad_ she was talking about, the one his mother was in love with!

Sonno laughed softly, "I don't mean like that. He was attractive but that isn't what I meant. His _soul_ was beautiful."

"Oh. And my mother, did you know her?"

"Yes. For an even more brief amount of time than Desmond. I knew her for but an instant, long enough to help. Long enough for you to live, and so _she_ wouldn't win," she nearly spat the word like it was something disgusting and foul.

"I'm… confused," he admitted.

"I know. There's so much you don't know Duncan. So much they kept from you. I'm going to try and fix that."

"You are?"

"Yes. I'm going to help you. As I helped your mother, and your father."

"How?"

"First we're getting you out of here."

"What?"

"I know you've thought about it. Running away. You're like your father in that, too much wanderlust. You want to see everything, see the world. Now you want to find your mother."

"I do," he agreed softly.

"I'm going to take you to her."

"You are?" his heart jumped.

"Yes. You need to leave this place though."

"Okay," he didn't even question it. It was Sonno, she was his friend, and unlike everyone else she was being truthful with him. There were no lies or secrets with Sonno. "What do I have to do?"

"Pack a bag. William is making everyone leave by tomorrow morning, you need to be gone before that."

"They'll see me," he said.

She smiled, "No they won't," she promised. "Before we go, after you've packed, you need to get something."

"I'll get it. Where is it?"

"William's room, in a safe."

"Okay. What is it?"

"An Apple."

—

It was dark when Duncan eased the shutters of his window open. They'd been locked up when they'd first moved here, all the shutters, so no one could get in. Duncan also suspected it was to keep people from getting out too. After he'd packed his bag of clothes he'd worked on getting them open. Sonno had been there the entire time, talking to him, telling him things about what was going on, what everyone wasn't telling him. Everything except how his father had died and what had happened to his mother.

He jumped onto the sill and then pulled himself up onto the first floor roof. Then, with the softest of footsteps he walked across the roof to his papa's office. The shutters here were closed, but he knew they weren't locked. He eased them open and silently slid into the room. It was so dark otut, with no moon overhead or stars and all the lights in the temple off, it was like they didn't even exist. Duncan's eyes blazed golden to see in the nearly nonexistant light.

There was a safe under William's desk. Duncan was on his hands and knees to get to it and pull it towards him. Sonno had told him what to do. She didn't know the combo but the key pad that opened the safe had blue marks on it from his papa touching it. He tried one combination, the error noise was rather loud and he winced. He looked over his shoulder but heard nor saw anyone. He tried again. The error noise seemed even _louder_.

_"Some help maybe?_" Duncan thought. In the past few hours they'd switched to totally silent conversation. Sonno couldn't read his mind but if he directed his thoughts to her she could pick them up.

"I don't know it," she said, actually talking since he was the only one who could hear.

_"Even how many numbers it is would be nice,"_ Duncan said, slightly testy.

"Hold on," she said and seemed to be thinking. "It's six numbers long," she said.

He just groaned. There were four buttons pressed. There were literally thousands of combinations with four numbers making a six digit code. He pressed his hands to his face. No, don't panic or freak out. You can do this. He knew he could. His mother had been an actual genius, she'd almost gotten her doctorate when she was twenty one years old before Vidic had taken her out of school to work for Abstergo. His father had been smart too, in his own way, he was clever and cunning and had loved puzzels almost more than it should be phsyically allowed. They were both problem solvers. They could have figured this out. If them on their own could have done it and he was a combination of them both _he_ should be able to do it too.

"Duncan, do something," Sonno said.

"Shh," he silenced her with a hand. "I'm thinking," he said aloud, softly. Sonno said nothing.

He thought about the numbers used. One, two, five, and six. By themselves there was nothing significant, they didn't make birthdays or anniverseries or any important date in Assassin history or lore. He quickly came up with all the numbers those numbers could equal. He'd always liked math and there was no computer on earth faster than the human brain. Duncan whizzed through the numbers until he struck one so hard it actually made him gasp.

Seventeen.

The numbers, when in the right sequence, added up to seventeen. The number Abstergo had given his father. William _had_ to have known that. His safe combination was in memory of his father, so he'd never forget. Duncan's chest felt tight.

But that still left the way to add up the numbers. There was only a certain number of ways the numbers would add up, because of how many numbers were used, and what numbers themselves were used. Bless his brain. He tried a combination and grimaced at the error sound. They wouldn't ignore the sound forever, someone would find him here. He needed to get the Apple _before_ being found. He tried again. One-six-two-one-five-two. He nearly cried out in absolute joy when the safe made a different noise and unlocked.

He opened the safe. Inside was a stack of bills, a golden ball, and the white rod Duncan had seen that Assassin give his papa. "_That's it_," Duncan said.

"Yes," Sonno said. "Take everything from the safe," she said. He grabbed the stack of bills first. They weren't just bills, they were British bonds. He knew, from the news, that the British Pound had the highest exchange rate in the world. There was a hundred thousand pounds here in smaller bonds. Duncan folded them and tucked them into his backpack. He took the white rod next.

"_What is this_?" he asked.

"You people have no name for it. It is called a _aturna_."

"The edgeless knife," Duncan said softly.

"Yes," she said. "It will not cut unless willed to cut and when it is it can cut through anything. It was one of the greatest creations ever made by the proeathans along with the _anukuta."_

Duncan put the _aturna_ into his pocket, it wouldn't hurt him though he knew that if he wanted it to he could make it cut through stone like it was butter. Last he picked up the Apple. It started to glow instantly and Sonno sighed happy. "Thank you Duncan," she said.

_"For what?_" he asked.

"For freeing me," she smiled at him.

_"What?"_

"I was punished," she said, "by the proeathans. My sentence was to die and turned into an Apple. For my people it is what happens when we die, we become nothing more than tools, just as we were in life, but infinently more useful to the proeathans than in life."

_"That's awful,_" Duncan said.

"Yes, it is. But in the right hands I am useful at least." The door opened and Duncan shot up, before he could do anything though Sonno threw her arm out and the Apple's light flared. "Not this time," she said. "This time, I'm getting away for real," she smiled. The guard who'd been opening the door stood there, frozen.

_"What did you do?_" Duncan asked, staring.

"Don't worry, he's fine. I just froze him." She looked down at his hands, "Ah it feels so good to do that again! I haven't had full control in such a long time."

_"What?"_

She smiled at him, "You, and your father, have a lot of proeathan blood. More than most people. It means you can use proeathan technology the way no one else could even hope to be able to do. You have even more than him actually, since I could do that on my own," she looked at her hands like it was the first time she'd ever seen them. "I am a tool, designed to help my user," she said, "You."

_"Me?_" he was sort of scared now.

"Yes. Always you," her smile was kind and sweet. "Don't be afraid Duncan. I'm not going to hurt you. No one is ever going to hurt you again now that you have me," she promised.

_"D-did you tell my dad that?"_

"No," she said, "he wouldn't listen to me. I tried so hard to help him. But he blamed me for what happened when I was just as powerless as him."

_"Powerless about what?"_

"About what happened to your mother."

"_Tell me,"_ Duncan pleaded.

"I will. But not now. Now, we have to go. He'll go back to the way he was once we're out of range."

_"How do I get out of here though? There are more people here. They'll see me."_

"But become invisible," she said.

_"What_?"

"Become, invisible," she said.

_"How_?"

"How do you normally become invisible?"

_"By pretending the others can't see you,"_ Duncan said, he remembered that from when he was a boy. He always pretened Anny B or Felix couldn't see him when they played hide and seek and it'd seem to take them a longer time than usual to find him.

"Exactly," she smiled.

He closed his eyes and thought hard, he was invisible. He was invisible. When he opened his eyes again everything looked the same, then he looked at his hand. He was gone. _"I did it!"_ he said excitedly.

"You did!" Sonno was excited with him.

_"Now what?"_

"Now, we leave, and go down to the village and catch a truck to Xi'an, and your mother," she said.

_"Lets go,"_ Duncan agreed.

—

The little village down the mountain didn't have a name. It was tiny but still had some modern touches, like a truck that went to Xi'an every morning to get supplies for whoever needed it. Duncan knocked shyly on the door of the home that owned the truck as the sun was rising, the sunrise real, but gray. An older man who was much shorter than Duncan, his skin wind blasted, baked by the sun, and very wrinkly, answered the door. "Uh, hello," and he bowed respectfully.

"Hello young man, what can I do for you?" the old man asked.

"Ah-" he thought about the Mandarin he knew. "I need to go to Xi'an, could you take me?" he asked. "I don't have any money, but I'm willing to do chores for a ride," he said hopefully, looking earnest.

The old man looked him over with a critical eye. Then, he smiled, he was missing several teeth. "Yes that seems like a fine trade. I wish my own son was as proactive as you. Come in, you can have some tea while we find you something to do."

"Thank you, thank you," Duncan bowed again and took off his shoes as he entered the house, following the old man inside. Sonno drifted in behind him looking pleased as could be, smiling at him brightly. He could do this. He would. He would.


	30. The Mentor IV

missed yesterday, here you go

* * *

It was early morning, the sun had been up for just a short while. William and Chloe were having a brief breakfast with the monks while the young people moved the Animus and all their gear to a truck parked in the back of the temple. It was a very quiet morning, cool, with clouds rolling into the high valleys. George and his cell had arrived late last night and had joined Tony and his men as William's security detail for the time being. Duncan had been quiet all night and this morning. Probably still sulking. William knew all about it, he'd been sulking earlier and Desmond had done more than his fair share of it while he was alive.

"Felix," William called when the German came over to them and picked up a cup of hot tea.

"Hmm?" Felix asked as he took a sip.

"Go wake Duncan, he needs to get ready too and we can't be waiting around for him," William said.

"Yes, sir," Felix nodded and left them, walked down the hall and turned out of sight. He wasn't even gone five minutes when he came back at a run. "He's gone!" Felix gasped breathelessly.

William stared at him, sort of unable to comprihend what Felix had just said, "He's what?"

"Duncan is _gone_. His shutters were open, most of his clothes are gone." William just stared at Felix, unable to accept what he'd just heard. He felt his world crumbling around him. First his son, now his grandson. They'd both run away from him. He'd done everything differently with Duncan than what he'd done with Desmond. He didn't hit, he didn't yell, he didn't keep him away from the world, he didn't ignore him. He loved Duncan as much as he loved Desmond and had let the boy know it. But he'd still run away. He couldn't win. He'd lost them both. He looked at Chloe and she looked on the verge of tears, she was thinking the same thing, only he knew she knew who they were both blaming.

"Sir!" he turned when Tony showed up. "Bad news."

"More?" William didn't know if he could take _more_ bad news.

"We went to empty your study. Your safe was open," William felt all the blood drain from his face. "Everything's gone. The bonds, the artifacts. It's empty." William looked at Tony with such dispair. What had he done to deserve this? Both his sons gone and the artifacts stolen. Duncan had taken them, he knew that.

Suddenly he slammed both fists down on the table, dispair washing away in an instant replaced by the fury of the Miles family rage. It was a hard beast to control at times and was absolutly terrifying when unleashed. He saw Chloe flinch away. "Find him!" he yelled. "Find that stupid boy and bring him back here this instant!"


	31. The Grandmaster IV

New York 2030

There was no city on Earth like New York during the winter. There was something completely magical about the city that drew people from all over, just to see the Big Apple. Richard had weathered most of the last few decades of his life here in New York, including the winters. New York housed one of their main facilities though with the sister facility in Rome and there was another large one in London and Hong Kong. New York was where he decided to make his stay though, thus making New York the most important facility, for where the Grandmaster did his work so did the others circle around it like planets around a sun.

It was a bitterly cold winter this year, one of the coldest in decades the meteorologists said. Richard would believe it. Down below rush hour traffic beeped and trickled through the streets like the blood of a hibernating beast. Richard sat in his chair, watching the skyline, his fingers working a piece of silk that was more than silk and wet feeling like fish scales but warmed like human flesh. It breathed in and out in his hands like a living thing.

So close. So close, he could feel his victory in reach. He just needed one thing. Thirty years spent searching for the accursed device, dealing with devils and cut throats and _them_ and he'd found it. Not that it'd do much good if he sent his men to retrieve it, _if_ they could retrieve it. No one came back when he sent them to get it. But he knew he couldn't use it. You had to be a special something to use it and Richard and all his men, weren't that special.

No, who was that special though was a little boy.

Alone now.

Afraid.

With no one.

It shouldn't have filled him with the joy it did to know his little prize chicken had finally escaped the chicken house, for he was a boy without knowledge of how to navigate the world around him. But it meant one thing to Richard. It meant _now_ for the first time in seventeen years when he'd been taken, they had a chance again. Rather _Richard _had a chance again. All the searching would have been for nothing if not for that little golden boy that Ms. Stillman had so graciously dropped right into his lap.

His office door opened, "Sir," one of his men said.

"What?" his voice was old and thin now, curse this decrepit body of his. Though that's what they needed the device for, and the boy.

"We just received a message from Martin," ah yes, the little upstart who was trying to worm his way under William and become the Mentor. Been doing a rather good job of it too until the real Mentor had thrown him into the middle of World War III. A good warning to Martin; I know, it said. Then he'd sought help. Help with them because Richard wanted William gone as badly as Martin did because William was old, and you didn't become an old Mentor without becoming clever and crafty. Martin was a stupid boy and Richard could work with the stupid, he was used to stupid.

"Yes, and what did he say?" Richard asked hollowly.

"You're going to want to hear this, sir," they said.

"Come in then," and they entered. Richard turned in his chair to face the desk and his man. They put a recorder on the table and pressed play.

"This is Agent Cloverfield, give me Stearns, this is important."

"Stearns isn't available, what do you want?"

"Tell him; I have it, and if he wants to get it he better hold up to his end of the bargain."

"The Templars always deliver Cloverfield."

"Yeah well I'm risking a lot for your stupid fbhszzz-" and then audio glitched and cut out.

"Is that all?" Stearns asked.

"Yes. We tried to reestablish communications with him again after the signal went out, no luck. We suspect... he might be gone sir, like the others."

Richard was usually above swearing, "Fuck!" he now cried. "If he's gone then," he clenched his teeth, making his jaw hurt. "Tell the Siren she has full authority to do whatever she needs to do to find her son. I want that boy found _now_."


	32. The Child VII

Tokyo 2031

A thin smoke trickled from Duncan's mouth and vanished into the night air as he stood on the sidewalk smoking a hand rolled cigarette he'd begged off one of the guys. He didn't smoke often, or a lot, and thankfully had never become addicted, but some days he just got so wound up he _had_ to smoke because it was relaxing. It didn't hurt that Japan had the strictest cigarette laws in the world. Cigarettes and rolling tobacco here had to be seventy percent or more tobacco and could only contain trace amounts of tar and nicotine. You wanted to smoke and have relatively healthy lungs? You lived in Japan or shelled out the extra bucks to get the Japanese imported cigarettes which were all the rage right now.

Tokyo was literally a city that never sleeped and Duncan loved it. It meant there was never a dull moment and it wasn't China, which was important. He'd been to Shanghai but it was still in China. He needed to get out of that country so they couldn't find him but he didn't have a passport. Travel between China and Japan had become fairly lax in the past few years though. You could take a boat to and from the countries without a passport, all you needed was an ID. Duncan had faked his way through the port authority with Sonno's help.

When he'd left Hua Shan almost a year ago he'd headed east, because to the west was Tibet, India, and WW III. He'd hitch hiked his way across China, also walked a lot of it, almost starved a few times, before making it to Shanghai and then from Shanghai to Nagasaki. He'd learned enough Japanese to not be a moron and between his Japanese, Mandarin and English he'd made it to Tokyo. He wanted to get a fake passport and get his ass to America where he could get lost in the vastness of the country like his father had and look for his mother. But for now, he called Tokyo home and he could speak Japanese really well, thanks to Sonno's lessons, like Animus Bleeding, only different. Animus Bleeding was like performing surgery with a sword, what Sonno did was like surgery with a laser.

The door opened behind him as he ashed the cigarette. Warm air blasted into his back and the loud club music they played over the screams throbbed through Duncan's body. "Duncan," Sonno said. He looked over his shoulder at her. She was the Apple and as real as what he could hold in his hand. He'd figured out, while on the road to Shanghai, how to use the Apple effectively in ways no one else had since the proeathans. Sonno told him not even his father had used it like he had, because he both feared and hated it for what it was. What he thought it'd done. It could create illusions, but illusions were only things imagined real. Duncan had _imagined_ Sonno real. She was still trapped inside the Apple, but now she was physical, tangible, touchable.

"Yeah?" he asked and sucked on the last drag of the hand rolled cigarette before flicking it into the small snow bank on the sidewalk.

"They're calling for you," she said, she was dressed nicely in newish clothes though not dressed for the snow and cold right now, having left her warm winter coat back in the club. He'd bought them for her. When he'd given her form she'd lost her ability to change clothes at will, so he'd had to get her some. She was all he had in the world, and she cared about him and would do anything for him. So he returned the favor as much as he could since he could never repay some of things she'd done for him.

"Aren't they always," he said mechanically and left what was left of his butt in the street and followed Sonno back inside the building. The music crashed into him like physical force, loud, booming, Japanese club music that made it impossible to hear just about anything else. Sonno walked beside him.

Half the building was a club, bodies thrashing to the music, a bar that glowed in neon and ultraviolet was busy making drinks and a laser light show strobbbed to the beat of the music. The DJ had a tall pink mohawk and was busy seeming to dance behind his booth himself as he mixed and mashed and made the clubbers writhe. Sonno kept next to him as they passed the dance floor, and the bar, and the DJ, to a red door guarded by a scary looking Japanese man. He opened the door for them without even having to be asked.

When the door closed a different cacophony reached their ears as the music was muffled through the wall. This time it was yelling and screaming. The other part of the building was an illegal, underground, fighting ring. The ring had a cage around it and people were yelling at the fighters who were beating the shit out of each other with their fists. He knew Sonno hated this part but he needed this. He had to get a passport and there was no legitimate way to do it, as he didn't have a birth certificate, or an ID, in fact, according to ever country in the world, Duncan didn't exist. Just another named kid in a world where everyone was a number. Doing this got him close to the people who could get him a legit looking passport and then he could go wherever he needed to go, his ultimate goal being to find his mother, like Sonno had promised him a year ago. America had strict immigration laws and even just getting into the country was nearly impossible even with a _real_ passport.

Since the start of WW III they'd closed their borders, very little went in and out of America. It made it a perfect hiding place. He just had to get in. To do that he needed a passport, a _real_ passport, but that was impossible, so he needed a forgery. Finding someone who made forgeries good enough to get into America wasn't easy, you had to go deep into the belly of the beast, and there was little deeper than the illegal fight rings. Yakuza came here, crime lords and mob bosses and big business, men in fine suits accompanied by geisha. People looking for an escape from the rigid social structure of Japanese society came here to cheer for a blue eyed foreigner and each time Duncan came he got deeper and last week he'd gotten his break. He'd had a meeting with a man who could help him. They said he wanted his passport he'd need to keep winning so he could keep making money off betting on some 'blue eyed upstart yank'.

Duncan had been fine with that.

He liked to fight.

They went around to the back of the ring. The announcer and runner of this rink was named Adachi Masatoshi, known locally as the Eel, with shock red hair meticulously styled was egging on the two fighters. But when he noticed Duncan he turned and smiled like a shark. "Eighteen! Good, she found you. Get ready, your fight is up next," and he looked aside to a man sitting on a bench, he was wearing a black hoodie and shorts, no shoes.

"Great," Duncan said and then Masatoshi turned back to fight. Duncan didn't watch. He wouldn't be fighting these guys. Apparently the guy who was going to help him said he was arranging for a big fight tonight between himself and someone from Osaka they called The Cross. It had drawn a big crowd tonight, larger then usual since the Cross was the Osaka version of him. Some new guy who'd made a name for himself in the pits. The fights before theirs were just warm up to get the crowd going, but no one forgot why they were here. It was to see Eighteen and the Cross fight.

It was over soon enough and the two guys left the ring, bloodied up, but alive. Knives were forbidden in the ring, this ring at least, others allowed knives or chains. Duncan didn't like those pit rings, but he'd fought in them too.

Masatoshi stepped into the ring and raised his hands. "Good fight, very good fight. Now for some _real_entertainment!" he cried, crouching a bit and then surging upwards to almost jump off the floor of the ring. Duncan, who'd taken his coat off while he waited, now peeled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes. No shirt, no shoes. His hands and wrists were wrapped, and he was one of the few fighters who did so, most of the guys who participated were just street thugs looking for a quick buck and something resembling a good time. Duncan was trained and everyone who went against him knew it, because he didn't move or take a hit like anyone else in the underground scene.

"Our returning champion shows his face once more in the Eel's humble grotto. I give you the blue-eyed devil who's name is unknown to all! Eighteen!" Masatoshi cried and Duncan stepped into the cage, face blank. The cheering Duncan received was more than a little obscene. All these people were here to see Duncan beat the shit out of some poor guy. "And our challenger. Well known in the pits of Osaka, don't let his age fool you, the old man has a bite as worse as his bark. Let's hear it for Cross!" and there was cheering, but also boos when Duncan's opponent stepped into the cage.

Duncan stared, confused, surprised, and interested. He'd only seen the man in memories from his mother and though it had been eighteen years Duncan recognized him. Back then he'd had no piercings but now he did, one in his nose, some in his ears. The tattoo he had a dead give away if there ever was one. Like Masatoshi had said Cross looked old but he saw a fire in his blue eye that told Duncan all he needed to know. Old he might be, but he wouldn't go down without a fight.

Duncan expected nothing less from Daniel Cross.

"Now gentlemen, you know the rules. Anything goes, but no weapons of any sort may be used and the fight is over when one of you give up or become unconscious. Understood?"

"Yeah," Duncan said, watching Daniel, who was watching him back. Daniel just nodded.

"Good!" and then Masatoshi left the ring and closed the cage. "FIGHT!" he cried.

Duncan crouched, Daniel mimicked him. Like Duncan his hands were wrapped, Daniel meant business. They circled each other but Duncan wasn't about to make the first move. Never move first against an opponent you don't know you can't beat. Duncan always thrashed any chum who tried to go against him, but they were thugs. This was Daniel, an Assassin, a Templar. Duncan would feel it out before he attacked. Daniel was clearly thinking the same thing and neither of them made a move towards each other other than to fake each other out, trying to get a response. Only thing was though that they were both too well trained. This was why when Assassins fought they didn't fight so much as appraise each other, realize who was stronger and then walk away without throwing a single punch. That couldn't happen here though. There had to be a fight.

The lack of fighting was starting to piss people off though and they threw things at the cage. Duncan ignored them, but Daniel didn't. He was clearly getting tired of playing cat and mouse and lunged at Duncan for real. Duncan dodged to the side, flipping out of the way. Daniel stayed on the attack though and with more speed than he thought an old man could have he sent a series of jabs at Duncan. Duncan blocked and retaliated. The crowd screamed in delight.

It was like fighting Felix. Felix was a master, no doubt about it. Daniel was too. Daniel also _moved_ like Felix. He'd clearly been trained first by Assassins, and later by Templars, refining his movements into something a lot like the Assassin martial arts but different, somehow wrong and twisted. Duncan moved like an Assassin, but more than that, he didn't move like a modern Assassin anymore. He moved like his forefathers did because he learned from Felix and then gained new muscle memory from Desmond and from Adam, and Desmond didn't move like a modern Assassin either. Daniel was like Felix though in that Felix fought a way Duncan knew, and because Duncan knew it, he could win.

He twirled and twisted around Daniel, always seeming to get behind the older man and kicking and punching him, leaving what would later become dark bruises. Daniel had landed a few of his own hits, but not like Duncan. Then Daniel tackled him and they went down in a flurry of limbs and blows, grappling and pulling and pushing and thrashing. The crowd went absolutely nuts, but Duncan barely heard them.

Then Daniel got Duncan on his back and hands closed around his throat. "_Say uncle, kid_," Daniel said in English.

_"No_," and Duncan thrashed and shoved at Daniel's face before managing to pry Daniel's hands off his throat and kicking him off him.

Duncan panted and gasped for air as he stood back up and stepped away from Daniel. The older man glared at him and launched himself at Duncan from the floor colliding with his legs and sending them crashing into the cage. The wind rushed from Duncan's lungs and Daniel threw him to the ground again. Once again they wrestled and once again Duncan was forced to his back. He punched Daniel in the flank repeatedly and he knew at one point he broke a rib because Daniel howled in pain, and it was enough for Duncan to turn the fight around.

It then took Duncan another two seconds to win. He twisted Daniel into a lock and hold, threatening to dislocate Daniel's arm from it's socket and partially strangling Daniel with his legs. Then Daniel was banging the mat with his hand and Duncan released him and rolled away and onto his back to actually breathe. That has been intense. Daniel was also trying to get his wind and Duncan finally heard the cheering. He thrust his fist into the air and the crowd went absolutely _nuts_.

"Wonderful wonderful!" Masatoshi cried and helped Duncan to his feet. He raised Duncan's arm, "Remaining champion Eighteen doesn't disappoint. Good work Eighteen," and he patted Duncan's back before Duncan left the ring. Sonno was there waiting for him and when he left the ring she hugged him tightly,

For a moment everything went still and silent and he knew Sonno had stopped everything. Well it was more like for a moment they were going very fast and that made everything slow and silent. _"That's Daniel Cross,"_ she said into his ear.

_"I know,"_ he said.

_"You know why he's here?"_

_"I can hazard a guess,"_ Duncan said._ "He's looking for me."_

_"He is,"_ Sonno said._ "If he's here then other Templars must be as well."_

_"And my mother,"_ Duncan said.

_"Yes."_

_"Lets talk to him then,"_ and then the noise was back and Sonno released him.


End file.
